Dark Destiny
by Nocturnal Eclipse
Summary: He wasn't always Begnion's most famous general. He wasn't always the Black Knight. For Zelgius, most of his life was spent alone and shrouded in darkness. His tumultuous life was longer than most and filled with strife, shame and hate. This is his story.
1. Prologue: Winter's Curse

**Author's Note: **So, I've wanted to start writing this for over a month now, ever since I finished "Against the Dark Knight". I had most of the first chapter written, but I decided to begin it differently and the original prologue is now chapter one or two. I hope I'm not too rusty on writing stuff like this. I'm always a little nervous about posting new stuff, no matter how sure about it I am. And dust collecting on my hard drive is a habit I really need to break. Since this does account for most Zelgius' life, the story will be quite long. Without further ado, dive right in.

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><p><em><strong>Dark Destiny<strong>_

**Part One: By the General's Hand**

_Prologue: Winter's Curse_

_**Begnion era, year 595**_

Winter in the southwestern wastelands of Daein was far harsher than anywhere else on the continent of Tellius.

Ice coated earth frozen hard by sub freezing temperatures created a thin sheet of ice that challenged the grip of his toughened, rawhide boots. The solitary man in the cloak that traversed this treacherous terrain moved swiftly and surely in his journey west, his steps solid and sure, never pausing for even the briefest of moments. But he was neither heedless of the danger nor reckless in his trek; he was only confident and accustomed to the hazards. He had made this outing many times in the past several months and braving the dangers he faced each time made him surer of his progress. He passed along the snow-covered conifers that grew at the river's edge, pausing only once to relace his boot as his foot unexpectedly caught on a tree root protruding from the frozen ground to his left. Amid the dark trunks and limbs and the snow-covered pine needles, he was simply another one of night's shadows. He had been walking for several hours, his sleep ended early that evening after breaking that afternoon following a long day of journeying westward. Through the trees he could spy out the tall and craggy peaks of mountains to the south, their dark shapes silhouetted against the night sky. Despite his reasons for making the journey west and the dangers he faced, he was not so much concerned with speed at the moment. After coming this way several times in the past year, he had learned haste would not help him. But he knew that this particular journey west would change his life forever, for the better or the worse.

His dreams had told him so.

The man wrapped his cloak more tightly about his form to help ward against the night's chill. It was a futile attempt at best, for the winds cut straight through the thin cloth and threatened to freeze his skin underneath. He was tall and well-built in the way most other soldiers of the Daein army from both the heart of Nevassa and the outlying regions like Talrega were, broadshouldered and tough in the way of Tigers, though not hindered by their bulky forms. He had a thin, hawk-like face and his features were stretched thin and revealed a visage that belied his true age. It would be surprising to notice that he carried no physical weapon at all; no sword, no axe, no lance, not even the smallest dagger that could be strapped to his thigh was to be found on his person. He broke the codes he had been taught by doing this, for all Daein soldiers, former or current, on patrol or off, were required to carry some means of protection no matter where they were at in the country. Daein was not known for being a very hospitable place and even the mightiest of soldiers could succumb to death, be it by freezing temperatures or soldiers of an enemy nation slipped past the Daein borders, especially this close to the mountains that marked the border with Begnion. No, the only means of protection he carried was a small book clutched tightly in his right hand, marked with symbols of an ancient language long forgotten by most of his kind and understood by even fewer. It surprised the man that he could even understand the ancient language imprinted on the rough, timeworn parchment. No one else in his family could even come close to reading it.

Perhaps he could read it because of the curse he carried in his blood.

Only recently had he picked up the skill of reading those symbols and speaking them, learning only just enough for him to get by. Never had the man thought he would do such a thing. He had always scorned magic and looked upon it as if it was a worthless means of combat. The man had always preferred to have a sword in his hand no matter the enemy he faced. But a sword would not avail him here; steel would not protect him against the elements like the magic would. Only the warmth and light it provided would comfort him here. It provided him light now, but it would only remain so long as he stayed focused.

But the slippery landscape that covered most of this region was not the most perilous aspect of the country that he challenged as he passed out of the forest and continued on across the frozen plains. He lacked the benefit of having a moon and stars to guide his way and show him the path to his destination, for a thick layer of clouds covered the entire sky, robbing him of his only natural source of encouragement and guiding light. And with these clouds and the winds that blew them across Daein's barren landscape came the most formidable of all obstacles that he would go up against and most likely perish to if he allowed himself even the slightest mistake or miscalculation.

Blizzards in this region were notorious for the way they appeared without warning. Frigid winds blowing off of the Oribes Sea provided the perfect conditions for such storms and oftentimes they formed in less than an hour, giving whatever unfortunately traveler foolish enough to venture out through Daein in the dead of winter very little time to seek shelter from the blowing snow and subfreezing temperatures. But they were not restricted to the winter season, however. Things became incredibly deadly when blizzards arose in early fall when trade routes were the busiest and choked with merchants and other traders traveling from Daein to Crimea, or vice versa. Many of these people were completely ignorant of such storms and simply assumed that since the temperatures were still relatively moderate in these areas, they needn't worry about such snowstorms impeding their progress or endangering their lives. It was their ignorance rather than their stupidity that killed them in the end, although some would undoubtedly beg to differ. If they possessed any shred of common sense at all, why would they still make the journey so thoroughly unprepared for what they would encounter? The sudden and violent storms would block roads and bury merchant caravans within an hour, leaving no trace of the foolhardy beings who so foolishly braved nature's unforgiving wrath. By the time the snows melted and the ice thawed in the spring, the only evidence left of these poor souls that met such an untimely and unfortunate, but not unpreventable, fate, were the skeletal remains of both the wagons and the bodies, the latter stripped bare of any flesh and muscle by whatever scavengers had come looking for a meal to sustain and steel themselves against winter's chill.

So, as it was, one might think that a sane man traveling west toward the villages that lay near the cliffs north of Riven Bridge would be wary of such storms, especially considering the fact that he was walking headlong into an approaching blizzard, one that had been gathering its might for the past several days while lumbering across the Oribes Sea toward the coast, and turn back or seek shelter before it was too late. The realization that the man intended to do no such thing would be as an astonishing sight as witnessing the official announcement of laguz and beorc coexisting as equals. The man never slowed as a crested the rise of a small hill and continued down into the valley beyond, where he would soon reach his destination by midnight if he kept his current pace.

Why was it that his wife had chosen such a desolate place to meet him after several months no contact? She surely could have chosen a more hospitable area, one that would not require a journey of several weeks to reach. A place in the northern regions, perhaps, where the weather was predictable? But no, it had to be more isolated than that. The cloaked man knew the reasons for choosing this place were well-founded. He knew as well as anyone that if he were to hide the curse he carried in his blood, he needed to take every precaution necessary.

Suddenly worried, he quickened his pace. If he was to make it to the valley's western edge before midnight, he needed to hurry. By then, he would be too late and his wife would be less than pleased.

By the time he reached the valley floor after the better part of an hour, the blizzard was upon him. It had already been snowing before, a soft and gentle snow, but now the winds had picked up and were raging through the valley in violent gusts, blowing the more heavily falling snow across the land and into the cloaked man's face. His eyes began to water and the frigid winds bit at his face, threatened to cover his body in ice as the temperature continued to drop as he pressed forward. The snow was up to his ankles after only another half an hour and only his thick, knee-high boots protected him against frostbite. Visibility was down to less than a quarter of a mile now and the man stumbled onward through the storm, struggling to keep his path as direct as possible. It seemed that he had made a miscalculation after all. He hadn't expected the blizzard to hit so soon and hoped that his path would remain clear until he reach the opposite edge of the valley. But the road was completely snow covered and the storm showed no signs of letting up.

Deciding that now was as good of a time as any, the man extinguished the light he held in his left hand and redirected the power generated from the book in his right hand into the rest of his body, allowing the warmth to fill him up. Once he had chased away the cold and regained feeling in his muscles, he turned the power outward and rechanneled it once again and from his left hand a jet of fire erupted, melting the snow that barred his path in mere seconds. Without a moment to waste, he continued on, using the magic wherever needed to keep his path clear of any snow.

After what he guessed to be at least an agonizing, frostbitten hour later, the cloaked man finally came within sight of destination and he let out an audible sigh of relief. The trek had been far more strenuous than he had anticipated. He was exhausted from the overuse of his magic and nearly every part of his body was thoroughly frozen; his pace slowed to a crawl and his frozen joints were slow to respond, his movements sluggish and uneven. Even still, he did not stop. He was so close now. Tucking his book back inside his cloak, the man bent his head against the wind and closed the remaining distance between him and his goal. He pushed his body against its limits as he approached the small building at the valley's edge. It looked strangely out of place here compared to everything else around it. It sat nestled against the slopes of the valley, surrounded by a small grove of pine trees. No other buildings could be seen and it was safe to assume that the old, dilapidated structure had been built recently and in haste for just this occasion. Beyond it lay the stone cliffs that dropped off into the Oribes Sea and it was no wonder that another village could not be found for another twenty miles to the north or south. The cloaked man strode quickly up to the front door, which looked about ready to fall off of its rusted hinges, and knocked softly three times.

The door flung open wide before he had even finished his third knock and a squat, dark-skinned man with cropped, black hair appeared, a large smile spreading across his pudgy face at the sight of the ragged, half-frozen man on his doorstep.

"Ah, Erasmus!" the man exclaimed, genuinely glad to see him. "It's about time you got here! The others and I were starting to worry."

The man called Erasmus didn't so much as nod or even smile in return. "It's been a while, Igor."

"Five years, as a matter of fact," Igor replied. He stepped away and motioned Erasmus inside. "Please, come in!"

Erasmus stepped across the threshold and into the ramshackle home, the floorboards creaking noisily with each step he took. The house was made entirely of wood; oak, most likely. It was a small, two-roomed dwelling, roughly circular in shape, spanning only a few yards from the front door to the opposite wall where a door led back into another room. The walls shuddered with each gust of wind from the storm outside and it pained Erasmus to know that Igor hadn't chosen a more sturdy residence, one that would hold up better during the winter season. At the very least, Igor had a fire going in the hearth on the right side of the room, the flames large enough that Erasmus could feel the heat from here.

Igor offered his hand to him. "May I take your cloak?"

Erasmus merely grunted in response and removed his cloak and handed it to the other man. "Hmph. How very kind of you, Igor."

"Nasty bit of weather out there, isn't it?" Igor said as he hung Erasmus's cloak up on a metal hook next to the fireplace. "I think it's probably snowed at least several more inches since this morning. I must admit to being afraid that it would snow so much that it you wouldn't be able to make it here until tomorrow evening."

"It wasn't easy, as you can well guess," Erasmus replied as he joined Igor next to the fire. He rubbed his arms to regain a bit of circulation in his muscles. "But the walk from Sella took far longer that I had originally suspected."

Igor was surprised. "You walked all the way here from Sella? You must be out of your mind, Erasmus! You know how foolish it is to venture out into the Daein countryside in the dead of winter. These blizzards come up without warning a lot of the time and will bury entire villages in an afternoon."

"Do not lecture or chide me, Igor," Erasmus shot back. "You know that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I do not always need you looking over my shoulder like you did when we were children. I am not the sickly little boy that forever dreamed about escaping the filthy slums of Nevassa. And besides, it's not as if I'm leaving myself completely unprotected when I head out alone."

"I'm sorry, Erasmus," Igor apologized. "It's just that we've known each other for such a long time and whenever you're late for something, I start to worry, even when I know that you have your magic to protect you. But what were you doing in Sella, anyways? I thought that you were going to take the river south of Nebula before following the road west and coming here."

"There were…complications," Erasmus replied. "The king decided to charge me with a task at a very inconvenient time, and it's really not my place to refuse an order from the king."

"What kind of task?"

"It seems that more riots from sub-human slaves broke out in that region a few days ago," Erasmus said. "As his personal diplomat, he sent me to resolve the situation, be it by brute force or simply issuing strong-armed threats. They were all quelled immediately, of course, but the unrest in Sella grows. It isn't like these sub-humans to rebel so quickly against their masters, even if they are in a remote region of Daein where the king's jurisdiction is shaky at best. I don't like this, Igor. These sub-humans never seem to learn their place."

Igor chuckled. "Well, what's there to like? It's a shame that we have to live in the same country as those disgusting beasts, let alone the same world, for that matter." He let loose a heavy sigh. "It's…still difficult to believe that benevolent Ashera could even create such bestialities and allow them to walk on the same earth that we do. The fact that we've placed all of them into slavery is proof of their repulsive nature."

Erasmus shook his head. "Not all of them," he reminded Igor. "Gallia and Phoenicis remain strong, while Goldoa still stays secluded in the southwesternmost corner of Tellius. Only within the last one hundred years have Gallia and Phoenicis begun to act ever more barbarous than usual, raiding towns and villages along Begnion's southern coast to free what slaves they can. Some even venture this far north and do the same in Daein."

"Perhaps the slaves rebel so often because of all those stories they hear about their own kind being freed," Igor guessed.

"Perhaps."

"If the sub-humans continue to act this way, why doesn't Begnion retaliate and wipe them from the face of the earth?" Igor asked. "Surely their armies are large enough to invade Gallia."

Erasmus eyed him curiously. "You sure ask a lot of questions, don't you, Igor?"

"Humor me, Erasmus, if only for a moment. You know that I don't hear much about the rest of the world while living in the Daein countryside. Without you, how else am I going to know the state of affairs out there?"

"No, that's not it," Erasmus said. "You always were such an inquisitive boy when we were younger. This has nothing to do with—"

"Stop beating around the bush and just give me a straight answer for once, Erasmus," Igor insisted.

Erasmus shrugged. "Just because I work for the king of Daein doesn't mean that I'm going to know everything that goes on here. I just wish I knew for certain, Igor. That's all I _can _say. Begnion invaded Gallia once before, so they surely have the power to do it again. But word has it that Begnion's new apostle seeks to establish more…friendly diplomatic ties with Gallia and Phoenicis and seek to put an end to any further hostilities."

"A-are you serious?" Igor demanded, his mouth agape. "That's absolutely ridiculous! She's got to be insane!"

Erasmus nodded in agreement. "She must be if she's even attempting something like that. I can't imagine that the Begnion senate is very happy about the whole thing, either. It was by their doing that the laguz were put in chains in the first place." He grunted. "Complete waste of time, if you ask me. Apostle Misaha doesn't understand those sub-humans, especially the ravens, are traitorous by nature and the second you seem to gain their trust, they'll steal your eyes right out of your sockets! She's no closer to bringing about peace than she is to freeing the sub-humans in Begnion from slavery, like she's been trying to do since she became the apostle."

"How long she's been the apostle now, anyways?" Igor asked.

"About a year now," Erasmus answered. "And whatever affects Begnion affects Daein just as well."

Igor sighed and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Just a year and already she's making things so much more difficult for the rest of us. What's this world coming to, Erasmus?"

Erasmus stepped away and moved to the window at the far side of house. He leaned against the windowsill and rested his head on the nearly frozen glass. Already the blizzard was worsening and the howling wind shook the entire house with each gust. "I don't know, Igor," he said. "But the world is changing, and I do not think that it is changing for the better."

"I suppose you're right," Igor answered softly. He paused. "And how does your wife feel about raising a child in such a turbulent state of things, where the future is so uncertain?"

"That's what worries me, Igor," Erasmus said softly, biting hard down on his lower lip. "With the laguz growing ever more violent, it will be difficult to ensure my family's safety in the years to come, even within the walls of Nevassa." He tasted blood in his mouth and spat it out onto the floor. "Filthy sub-humans seek only to ruin our lives in return to make their own lives bearable, at best."

"Yes, but that's not the only that's bothering you, Erasmus," Igor said back. He moved closer to Erasmus. "Do you simply fear the sub-humans because it is in our nature as humans or because of the mark you carry, the mark of the—"

Erasmus whirled on the other man before he could finish and closed the distance between the two of them in seconds, quickly and violently, shoving Igor up against the opposite wall with one hand. He wrapped his thick hands around Igor's neck. The small man's body went rigid in response, his legs dangling a few inches above the floor as Erasmus lifted him into the air.

"I told you, Igor, don't you EVER speak to me of that matter!" His eyes flashed with rage and he tightened his grip. "Ever! It's bad enough that I have to bear the shame of the sins my father made, but the fact that my wife has to risk her own well-being to even be seen with someone like me is almost unbearable. We may have grown up together, Igor, but do not presume to think that you can start shoving your nose into my business!"

Igor grasped futilely at his neck, trying to loosen Erasmus' iron grip. "P-please, Erasmus!" he gasped. His dark face was already turning a light shade of purple. "I-I meant no offense! I only thought that—"

"You thought _what_, exactly?" Erasmus cut him off. "That you could help us? Ha!" He pulled away and threw Igor back onto the floor. The other man rose to his knees, gasping for air.

_Such a pitiful man_, Erasmus thought as he knelt down next to him. "How little you understand, Igor," he said aloud as he grabbed a fistful of Igor's hair and pulled his face close to his own. "You always thought that as long as I could pretend to live a normal life, I would not be haunted by the sins of my parents and the life I lived would be the only reality I would have to face. But you have no idea just how daunting it is to live a life that will be forever shunned by both races, laguz and beorc, even if I keep my true nature a secret."

"Erasmus, please—"

"You will _never_ understand, you pretentious fool," Erasmus whispered into his ear. "You've always pretended to understand and sympathize with what I am. As a boy, I thought that you were only trying to be nice, since you were the only one who knew what I was and still you treated me with kindness. But as I grew older, I began to understand. It was never kindness you offered me. Only pity. Pity that I may never find my place in this world and you were the only one who would ever care about me. I do not deserve pity from you, Igor. Not from you or anyone else."

His voiced hardened and rose above a whisper. "I let this go for now, considering what I am here for today. It would be a shame for the same day as the birth of my first child to also be the day of the death of the one person I thought I could trust. But if you _ever_ mention this to me or my wife again, I will not hesitate to kill you." He pulled Igor's face about in front of him. "Do you understand, Igor?"

The other man nodded hurriedly in return and as Erasmus released his grip on Igor's hair, the lone door on the other side of the room opened and a woman in a dirty, red gown appeared. She was dark-skinned like Igor was and when she saw the two men on the floor, her jaw dropped and she looked at Erasmus. "Erasmus? When did you arrive?"

"Not even ten minutes ago," Igor answered for him, using the brief distraction to scramble to his feet, dusting himself off. "He trekked all the way through a snowstorm just to get here by now. Is there something I can get for you, my dear?"

The woman ignored him entirely and kept her gaze focused on Erasmus. "Erasmus, your wife would like to see you now," she said quickly before turning back to the door. Erasmus followed in after her, but he stopped short when Igor spoke up.

"Shall I come in as well?" he asked timidly.

"No, you will stay out here, Igor," Erasmus answered coldly. "This is between me and my wife and I'll not have you there to get in my way." He turned back to the woman. "You as well, Igrene. You can stay out here with your husband." Without bothering to wait for a response from either of them, he stepped through the doorway and slammed the door behind him.

This room was much smaller than the main portion of the house, if that was even possible. It consisted of only one window on the far side, with the drapes pulled across it. With the absence of the fire, it was also much colder and Erasmus found himself wishing that he had taken his cloak with him. He had half a mind to go and back ask Igor to retrieve it for him, but doing so would injure his pride and he wasn't going to give Igor the satisfaction. The only piece of furniture in the room was a large, wooden bed, framed with gold trimmings along the headboard. It sat several feet above the floor and the legs looked to be a bit unsteady and lopsided. On the bed lay a dark-haired woman, covered by a white blanket and in her arms she held a newborn baby boy, the only visible part of him being his blue, raven-colored hair.

"Isn't he beautiful, Erasmus?" his wife said, cradling the baby in her arms and a smile spreading across her face. "He looks just like his father. He has your hair; and your eyes as well."

Erasmus hesitated before moving over closer her, staying carefully a few feet away. "That…remains to be seen, Monica," he said after a long moment. "Is he…normal? Is there anything different about him?"

His wife glared at him. "How should I know? I know what you're referring to Erasmus, but at best, we won't anything more about his condition for at least another year or two." Her voice softened to a whisper. "So please, just this once, could you try not to think about that and just simply be happy for the three of us? The goddess Ashera as seen fit to bless us with a beautiful baby boy and I dare you to find fault with that right now, Erasmus."

"You cannot change how I feel about this, Monica. Remember that I only agreed to do this because you so desperately wanted to have a child."

"But can't you at least be happy for the three of us?" she persisted. "If only for a moment?"

Erasmus shook his head. "I will be happy when I am sure that he is not truly his father's son."

Monica sighed and turned her eyes back to the baby in arms. "Fine, we can talk about this later, Erasmus. But what should we call him? If he is to be the first of many children to come, I want his name to be strong, a name that will earn him the respect that he will deserve."

Erasmus thought for a moment and stared down at the boy, thinking that there was only one name he could think of that would be appropriate for the boy whether or not he was forced to live with the curse that Erasmus feared so much.

"Zelgius," he said finally, stepping up next to his wife. "We'll call him Zelgius. After his grandfather."

"Zelgius?" his wife asked, looking up at him and then back down at the baby. "Yes…Zelgius. It is a good name."

Erasmus didn't say anything more, his eyes only focused on his son and his thoughts solely on the curse that Zelgius would most definitely have to live with for the rest of his life, whether or not he was marked with the sins and shame of his father's past. He would always have to live with the cursed blood running through his veins. Erasmus would not show any kind of love or affection to the boy until he was sure that Zelgius was not one of _them_. After all, what use was there in loving somebody who wasn't even supposed to exist?

But, if by some miracle Zelgius was not fated to be cursed by the sins of his ancestors and all the hopes and wishes Monica had held since the time she became pregnant were realized, then perhaps Zelgius could one day be earning of his father's love.

_Lies,_ Erasmus told himself, shaking his head. _All lies. Zelgius will never be free. I have cursed the boy's fate as well as my own._

Erasmus' own mother had, after all, been one of the bird tribes.

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><p><strong>Ending Note:<strong> See? I told you I was going to make it long. Look at where I'm starting. I don't think I'll cover _all_ of Zelgius's childhood and whatnot, since that isn't the main focus of the story. I'll incorporate it as I go through, don't worry. And I haven't written physical descriptions like I did in this chapter for quite some time, so hope I wasn't too wordy. And as a reference, Sella and Nebula all cities in Daein southwest of Marado and northwest of Nox, respectively. Check a map of Tellius if you want a better idea. Constructive criticism is always appreciated, as usual!


	2. I: Branded

_**Dark Destiny**_

**Part One: By the General's Hand**

_I: Branded_

Zelgius was lost in the suffering of his job, barely even aware of his surroundings. His arms ached from the constant pounding of his pickaxe against the stone wall. Small bits and pieces flew from the wall as he bore in relentlessly, ricocheting off the metal helmet he had been given to wear and the thick glass shield attached to it that protected his eyes from the flying debris. Muscles rippling and bulging with each subsequent strike he made, Zelgius only paused in his attack of the cave wall to brush his hair from his eyes. His bare torso was covered in sweat and grime, the latter glistening in the faint torchlight that illuminated the corridor. It would have been so much hotter and incredibly hazy and smoky in the mineshaft if not for a clever designer who had drilled holes sixty feet down into the mine so that the smoke could vent through to the surface. But the vents did little to help stifle the unbearable heat that gripped the silver mine buried deep within the mountains north of the Daein capital of Nevassa. He was relatively alone in his section of mine, which ended in a dead end where he currently worked. There were only two other miners at the end of the shaft, positioned to where Zelgius could easily see them if they approached, and the guard that patrolled up and down the center of shaft along the steel mining cart tracks that crisscrossed through the entire cavern. He only knew of their presence because it was routine that the same guard and the same other miners were there every day, not because he was currently aware of them.

Zelgius worked quickly, carefully and precisely, for there was precious little ore left in this section of the cave. It was tricky because if Zelgius swung his pickaxe at the wrong angle he risked smashing the soft ore. Unfortunately, there was no better way to extract the precious silver. It was painstaking and required absolute precision on his part and if even the slightest blunder was made, the silver would smash and become completely unusable. Such a delicate process.

Here in a country and in times where social status meant so much, Zelgius doubted that he would even be in his current situation, had it not been for two things: his father, of course, and the fact that silver mining, despite its grueling nature and demand of incredible physique, was as highly valued as the ore the miners were required to excavate. It wasn't so much that he hated his job, just that he was forced to tolerate and muscle through it.

In the early days of Daein, when most of the outlying regions had been relatively unexplored, silver was treated as a very rare and expensive commodity in northern Daein and especially in Nevassa, for silver was not normally found in the region. It was highly coveted for its uses in jewelry and weapons. Silver ore was far more in abundance in the caves of the southern mountains near Talrega and Tor Garen, which was why so many villages in the south prospered at all times of the year. Mining Towns, they were called. But when the ore in a particular cavern dried up, the towns became more desolate and abandoned than the Daein countryside in the heart of winter. People deserted their homes there and moved on to where ore could still be found. There was still plenty to be found there and so many in Daein's nobility treasured it. They were not, however, so eager to pay the outrageous taxes and various merchant fees demanded by the traders who traveled north to sell the ore. In addition, merchant caravans were frequently attacked and their precious cargo stolen before it could reach the capital. So when the king ordered that the northern mountains be scoured more thoroughly for silver almost twenty years ago, the nobles had jumped all over the opportunity to hire workers to find and excavate the precious metal for them. Their work was well worth it. They had struck gold (not literally, mind you) in the deep caves leading to the Palmeni Range north of Nevassa and uncovered vast and untold amounts of wealth, not only in silver, but in precious gems as well; a nearly endless supply. No longer would the nobles have to pay the taxes from the south. More jobs opened up. Demand for silver in the north went up while the price plummeted; the opposite happened in the south. Economics in its purest, simplest form. Silver mining was almost of pastime of Daein that had been going on for nearly three hundred years after the country's inception, five of which Zelgius had spent his time in the mines.

_Five years,_ Zelgius thought to himself. Five long years. Twelve hours a day, five days a week. What did it all mean now? He had gotten nowhere and earned very little to no money. From the twentieth year of his life, not long after he had been brought to Nevassa, he had slaved away in the mines. The only thing that kept him from working in the mines as long as the others was that there were still laws in Daein that restrained boys his age from working longer shifts.

Or at least boys that were as old as Zelgius _appeared_ to be.

The thought made Zelgius pause and his sharp green eyes strayed momentarily to his lower back, just below his left shoulder blade. His mark was still hidden underneath the large utility belt that he kept strapped around his back and chest, with only the tail ends of the mark being visible. But with the dirt and rock that covered his body, Zelgius doubted that anyone would even notice that. Each time he looked down at it, he hoped that it wouldn't be there, that somehow the goddess had decided to spare him of the curse. Like a broom to footprints on a stone floor it to be purged of his being. But as always, it was there, taunting him, mocking him, a constant reminder that he was an abomination not only in the eyes of his father, but in the eyes of everyone else and even the goddess herself. He was forever doomed to be rejected and scorned by the world. But if the blood of the laguz kept him from working full shifts, then that was the game he had to play.

The worst part was that it wasn't even his fault. Zelgius had committed no sin so great to warrant such punishment.

That said, it didn't mean any of the other miners would sympathize with him, for Zelgius, unlike so many of the others working in the mines, at least had a warm bed and a hot meal to return to, even if that place was far from comforting. No, most of the workers, be they young or old, were criminals and vagabonds that had nowhere else to go. The former were destined to work in the silver mines forever, their legs chained to the heavy mining carts that were used to transport the collected ore from the depths of the mine to the surface. Most were murderers and cutthroats, not petty thieves, and were kept under constant surveillance by the unlucky Daein soldiers who were assigned as guards in the overheated mines. They received no pay and yet they worked alongside mostly those of the latter class, who were drifters wandering aimlessly across Tellius looking for work. As long as they could withstand the grueling conditions of the mines, they opted to work in the mines to earn what meager pay they could before moving on. Zelgius could not fathom as to where these men stayed after their shifts were over, but it was safe to assume that they hunkered down in Nevassa's lowest and darkest alleys at night, battling the cold and the shadows that crept about them before daylight brought them the only salvation they knew. These men were the toughest, but most desperate of the bunch, and went about their work with a silent disposition and a hope that one day they may rise above the poor man's slog and find something that would at least seem more luxurious.

As it was, Zelgius belonged to neither group and it didn't bother him in the least. There were far worse situations he could be in or even more hazardous professions he could have. He could have been a gladiator of sorts in the slums of Daein, battling against ferocious sub-human beasts for money in duels that passed as a sport for the lower classes. Or he could have been a farmer in western Daein, where the winters, ones that Zelgius knew all too well, were long and brutal and the only break from its wrath came in very late spring when it was almost too late to plant any crops. But Zelgius' father had decided to give him a job that would keep him closer to home, where he could undoubtedly keep an eye of him while at the same time keeping Zelgius away.

It was Erasmus' way of killing two birds with one stone. On one hand, Erasmus was as greedy and corrupt as any other high-ranking politician in the Daein hierarchy and would take all of the gold he could get. Any and all gold that Zelgius earned in the mines went directly to him. On the other hand, Erasmus was obsessed with keeping Zelgius away from the family as much as possible, because as the way Erasmus had put it, "I will not have you besmirching and befouling this family's name and reputation with your overbearing stench". It was ironic because Zelgius knew better than anyone that it did not matter if he was around or not: the "stench" that his father referred to would be present as long as Erasmus was around.

All other thoughts and appearances aside, he was simply another miner. Zelgius had been chipping and swinging away at the rock for more than four hours straight now. His pickaxe weighed more than twenty pounds and his muscles screamed at him from hammering against the rock for so long. His arms were trembling from the exertion. Even his lungs were burning from the dust and rock fragments kicked up into the air. Each time he swung his axe, he let out an audible wheeze that echoed through the entire mine shaft. Zelgius was not allowed any breaks; taking a break meant leaving that particular silver vein unattended and he would either lose his rhythm at extracting the silver or someone would come along finish the job before he could.

The latter of the two situations was more concerning to Zelgius, for miners were paid by the amount of silver they brought back at the end of the day and if Zelgius brought back anything less than he normally did, he was going to get it from his father when he returned home.

_Home._ Zelgius paused in mid-swing as he spoke the last word in his head. It lingered on as he thought about it, wondering at the true significance of the word. Why did he even refer to it like that? "Home" had never meant what it should have and just the word alone brought back painful and unwanted memories. He tried to force them back, but he couldn't help it…

_"You disgust me, you know that?"_

_Zelgius did his best to ignore his father's remarks and continued to eat quietly, stoically shoving spoonfuls of foul-tasting soup into his mouth. The last thing he needed right now was his father hurling insults at him when he had barely been home for more than a few minutes. Zelgius's mother was nowhere to be seen, but just as well, Zelgius decided. She wouldn't have the courage to stand up to Erasmus anyways._

_His father slapped him on the back of his head. "Didn't you hear me, boy?" Erasmus leaned down next to Zelgius's face. "How about you look at me when I'm talking to you?"_

_His father had been drinking again, that much was clear. Zelgius could smell the alcohol on his already putrid breath and he had to swallow to keep himself from vomiting. Erasmus didn't drink much, but when he did, it was in very large quantities and brought him home in a rage._

_And Zelgius was an easy target._

_"Bah, you're weak and useless, just like you've always been!" Erasmus pulled away. "You've never been good at anything; you can't even work properly to help provide for this family!" He grimaced as he watched the raven-haired boy eat. "And don't you ever stop eating? I swear, do you think our coffers are endless, boy? If you keep eating like this, you're going to run us ragged and break us! If I wasn't still working for the king every day, we'd be living on the streets by now!"_

_Zelgius couldn't tell if it was drunken sarcasm that spurred the statement, since Erasmus's job as the king's advisor gave them more than enough money to live on, but against his better judgment, Zelgius murmured, "I work just as hard as you do."_

_Erasmus whirled on him. "What did you say, boy?"_

_Finished with his meager dinner, Zelgius pushed the bowl aside and stood up. "I said that I work just as hard as you do," he declared again, not turning to face his father. "You work a luxurious life for the king, while I work in the silver mines in the mountains. My work is more physically demanding while yours—"_

_He was quickly silenced as a fist flew towards the side of his head, striking him hard on the left temple. The force of the impact threw him to the ground and drew blood, but Zelgius did not cry out. The beatings were regular; he was used to them. But always Zelgius had wondered: what in the goddess's name had _he _done to deserve such treatment?_

_"DON'T YOU _DARE _TRY AND TELL ME THAT YOUR WORK IS HARDER THAN MINE, BOY!" Erasmus bellowed. "I'll not have some boy like you become stronger than me! You think yourself strong, Zelgius? You're weak and you always will be!"_

_The beating did not stop until Erasmus was sure that the message had been thoroughly ingrained into his son's head. But Zelgius did not resist, nor did he cry out or shed one tear. He couldn't fight back. He desperately wanted to, knew that he could, but it would only cause him more pain…_

_But there had been blood. So much blood. How could Zelgius have withstood so much—?_

Zelgius twisted his neck and once again he was back in the mineshaft. He suppressed the memories back to the darkest recesses of his mind where they belonged. It infuriated him that he let them surface again; he had sworn not to think about it. The beatings hadn't been alcohol induced. They came from some other source. The ale was just a catalyst to spur on his father's drunken rage. But it didn't make sense to him that his father would blame him so much for his mistakes, especially considering the fact that Erasmus and Monica risked everything to not only have Zelgius, but to raise him in a country where hatred against the Branded was just as strong as the hatred toward the laguz. It puzzled Zelgius even further that his parents had decided to keep him. Perhaps Erasmus took his anger out on Zelgius because he had no other way to vent it and Erasmus couldn't exactly completely blame himself either. It was his parents who were mostly to blame. It made Zelgius wonder why Erasmus named the boy Zelgius, after his own father.

Was there something there about Zelgius's grandfather that Erasmus wanted to keep hidden, something that would ultimately turn back against him? It had something to do with the laguz Zelgius's grandfather had eloped with, that much was sure…

He was so lost in thought that he didn't pay attention to where his next swing struck that rock. It hit far too close to the silver protruding from the wall and nearly knocked the ore loose. Dust and gravel flew back into his face. Zelgius quickly threw off his helmet and abandoned his pickaxe, sliding the latter into the sheath strapped across his back. He pulled out his hammer and chisel and pounded around the rock containing the silver ore. After several painstaking moments of tension and uncertainty, he finally pried the ore loose and it fell onto the cave floor, splitting into two pieces.

Zelgius picked up one piece and groaned. He had smashed most of the ore with his pickaxe, the only remains being tiny and crushed fragments. That was the second time today that he had done so, not to mention the fourth time this week, and if the guild found out about his continued blunders, Zelgius wasn't going to get paid at all. All of these unwanted memories from the past were distracting him. He had been lucky, though. A small amount of silver had survived and after carefully chipping away what excess rock he could, Zelgius placed it in the metal bin to his left. He lifted it with one hand and guessed its weight. About twenty fair-sized pieces…probably around ten pounds. A good haul.

Zelgius turned and inspected the second rock he had broken loose and upon finding that no silver was present, only lead, he idly tossed the rock to his left and into the waste cart. He didn't know what was done with the lead at the end of the day, but Zelgius's only concern was finding as much silver as he could without mixing it in with the lead. If any substantial amount of lead was found with the extracted ore at the end of the day, then an equally substantial amount of pay would be deducted.

"You know, you're supposed to extract the ore not smash it to bits, you clumsy oaf."

Zelgius didn't even need to turn to see who it was that had spoken. The man's voice and stinging sarcasm were clue enough. Zelgius chose to ignore the remarks and turned his attention back to the iron crate containing the silver. He picked it up and began to make his way over to the steel cart at the end of the mine. There was no use in looking for any more ore; the vein here was completely dried up.

A gruff, armored hand on his shoulder gave him pause. "Didn't you hear me, maggot? How about you respond when I say something to you?"

This time Zelgius turned to face the man and he was not surprised to find that it was the red-haired soldier who had been patrolling the corridor all afternoon. His name was Rackson, a large, well-built soldier who had been temporarily assigned to guard duty in the mines. Rackson's dislike of his current job was no secret and he frequently took out his anger and frustration on the miners, Zelgius and the prisoners most of all. Rackson made it commonplace to confront Zelgius each day and harass him, but rarely did things ever escalate to physical violence. He was dangerous and short-tempered at the best of times and it didn't help that he was Zelgius' cousin.

Still holding the crate full of silver, Zelgius maintained his stolid expression. "What are you talking about?" he asked in a voice that was far deeper than a boy his age's should have been.

But of course, there was no point in trying to hide that from Rackson.

Rackson pointed at the crushed silver with the short sword in his right hand. "I'm talking about that, you dunce! Do you honestly think that I wouldn't notice that? When are you going to stop fucking around and actually pay attention to what you're doing?"

Zelgius remained unfazed by the harsh remark and shrugged. "I make mistakes just the same as everyone else," he said. "Besides, I don't see why you should care about how much silver I bring in. You're here to guard us, not judge us on our quality of work."

Rackson shoved him back with one hand. "You idiot, there's more to this disgusting job than that! I don't just have to guard you, I have to make sure you're doing your job right and if you keep smashing the ore, that means I don't get what I deserve. If you don't get paid, I don't get paid." He waved the short sword in front of Zelgius's face. "You see how that becomes a problem?"

"If you're so dissatisfied with my work, you can always grab a pickaxe and try it for yourself."

It wasn't meant as an insult but Rackson took it that way. It was more than enough to set the short-fused Rackson off and bring his short sword to bear on Zelgius. Zelgius's comments and the blistering heat of the mine had set him even more on edge than usual. Quicker than a normal human eye could follow, Rackson brought the sword down to his left in front of his body and swept the weapon up. But Zelgius didn't miss a single movement of Rackson's body, right down to the number of inches the blade was to his leg when Rackson brought it down. Before Rackson had even started moving, Zelgius had taken in the entire situation in less than a minute, his acute senses warning him of the danger before it could even strike. Call it instinct or intuition or what you would. It was nothing more than a subtle nudging the back of Zelgius' brain and each time it surfaced, Zelgius felt as though he could move with the speed of a Raven. He didn't know where it came from, but he had the feeling that it wasn't just sharp perception. His senses sharpened and his reflexes felt as though they had doubled. Every muscle in his body responded in turn almost instantly.

Rackson brought the blade up under Zelgius's right arm but before it could move above Zelgius's midsection, Zelgius dropped the crate of silver and brought his right leg up in a defensive maneuver that pinned the flat part of Rackson's blade between his leg and elbow, just under his armpit. In a split second, Zelgius grabbed the back of Rackson's head and slammed the soldier's forehead onto his raised knee. In a daze, Rackson stumbled back as Zelgius thrust his free arm forward and wrenched the blade from Rackson's hand and turned it back on his attacker.

The fight should have ended there, even with Zelgius' own intuition to assist him, but unlike Rackson, Zelgius was exhausted. All Rackson had been doing for the entire shift was pacing casually up and down the corridor, expending little to no actual physical exertion. Zelgius couldn't move his muscles fast enough as Rackson delivered a heavy blow to his gut and two swift chops to Zelgius's left side. Zelgius's entire body went numb for a brief moment and the sword fell from his grasp right into Rackson's waiting hands. Before Zelgius could even move again, Rackson took swept his right leg and took Zelgius's feet out from underneath him. Zelgius hit the floor of the cave hard and smacked his forehead on the side of the iron crate. White hot pain seared through his head and blood trickled down into his eyes. His vision blurred and a red haze spread across his eyes.

Rackson forced Zelgius facedown onto the floor with one boot. "Now you've really pissed me off," he growled. Rackson raised the blade high above his head. "You're going to get what you deserve you bestial, half-beast son of a—"

"RACKSON!"

Rackson stopped in mid-swing and half-turned to where the voice had come from. Zelgius himself couldn't tell who it was but there was definitely someone walking down the corridor toward him and Rackson. Rackson didn't budge and inch and kept his boot pressed down on the back of Zelgius' head.

"Targus," Rackson murmured, turning just his head to face the other man. "What are you doing here? I thought you had gone down to the lower levels—"

"That's Captain Targus to you, you untrustworthy ingrate," the other man said. "I turn my back on you for five minutes and you're already causing a disturbance amongst the miners. What in the goddess's name are you doing, Rackson?" He eyed Zelgius, who had managed to lift his head slightly to see the man. Targus' face was aged and weathered and was clad in the same black armor that Rackson was, but instead carrying a wicked pike in his right hand. Zelgius guessed that judging by the few grayer spots in his long hair, he had to at least be in his forties, maybe even nearing fifty judging by the unsteady way he walked. He almost limped and was half Rackson's size, but held a commanding presence.

When Rackson failed to respond to his question, Targus' eyes flashed with rage. "You answer a superior officer when he addresses you, Rackson! Do not make me ask you again."

"I was putting this wretch in his place," Rackson defended. "He resisted me when he refused to accept the proper punishment for insubordination—"

Again Targus cut him off. "You want insubordination, Rackson? What you're doing right now is just that. You have neither the reason nor the authority to deal out punishment among the miners. That power alone remains with me, the one in charge here. Do not presume to think yourself high enough to disregard my word entirely." He pushed Rackson aside and brusquely pulled Zelgius to his feet. He inspected the gash on Zelgius's head. "Come with me, boy. We'll get those wounds cleaned up good and proper so that you can get out of here."

It stung Zelgius to be called a boy by someone who was likely only fifteen years older than him, but that was the game he was forced to play in his situation. He picked up the crate of silver and gathered the rest of his tools before following Targus down the corridor.

Rackson was astounded that his captain had so quickly condemned him for his actions. "But Captain—"

"Stop your complaining, Rackson," Targus said without turning around. "You're already on your way down a road that will end with your ultimate dismissal from the army so I suggest you keep your mouth shut if you want to stay amongst our ranks. I'm reporting you to the general and you'll be lucky if he just docks your pay for today."

Targus continued to lead Zelgius back through the cave and when he was sure that Rackson was out of earshot, he spoke. "Sorry about that, boy. He's a tough one to control, that one. General Gawain likes to keep him on as short of a leash as possible most of the time, due to his belligerent nature."

The statement piqued Zelgius' interest immediately as he hurried to keep up with Targus's surprisingly swift pace. "You fight in the army alongside General Gawain? Truly?"

Targus eyed him strangely. "By the goddess, you don't get out of these mines very much, do you boy? I've been at the General's side every day since the moment he became one of the Great Riders! Surely you remember when that was! You'll not find a greater general in all of Tellius than General Gawain, that's for sure. Nor the men he trains in the art of war. Finest group of soldiers you'll ever see."

"I've always thought of joining the Daein army myself someday," Zelgius said. "General Gawain is…incredible, to say the least. His swordsmanship is fiercer and more powerful than any I've ever seen. At least it was before I was sent to work here. It's likely even more outstanding now. How I've dreamed to fight under him someday."

"Then what's stopping you, boy?" Targus asked. "The General's always accepting new recruits and a strapping boy like you would be a welcome addition to the lines. That and I saw the way you handled yourself against Rackson. Not many people can move as fast as you did. Why don't you just abandon your job here and join the army? Certainly more enticing than swinging away at a rock wall all day."

Zelgius thought of his father and the reasons he couldn't leave. "It's complicated, Captain," he said. "As it is, I'm not allowed to leave here, except at the end of the day."

Targus shrugged. They were had reached the end of the mineshaft and were on the threshold of the cave that branched off in three directions: two to either side that led to the Mining Guild outside the cave on the hills to the east and west and one that emptied out onto the plains north of Nevassa. "I see." He gave Zelgius another look over. "You're probably not even old enough to join anyways. By the way…" He fished a small bag out of his pocket. "This is why I came up to the shaft to find you in the first place. It's the end of the week and you get paid."

Zelgius opened the bag and looked inside. There wasn't nearly as much gold as he was expecting, less than half of what he had earned. "But I worked two shifts yesterday," he said, still looking at the meager portion of gold, which numbered to less than twenty pieces. "I hauled in twice as much silver as I normally do."

"The head of the Guild for this part of the mine said you'd say that," Targus said. "That's why he sent me up to give it to you in person. Imagine that. Sending a captain in the Daein army down into the mines to find one person. But he said he didn't feel like dealing with you right now. He did tell me to tell you that since you smashed more silver this week, he took more out of your pay."

"I mined more than enough silver to compensate the difference," Zelgius argued.

"I know, it isn't right, boy," Targus admitted. "And the Guild probably knows that. But I don't make the rules around here and what the Guild says goes. I'm only here as a guard. Now, stay here while I go and find something to get you cleaned up before you head home." Targus hurried off down the left path and was soon lost from sight.

Zelgius turned his eyes toward the mouth of the cave that led out onto the plains. Already the sunlight was fading away to the west and by the time Zelgius made his way back to the city, it would be completely dark. A chill but refreshing wind blew through the cave and numbed Zelgius's body. He hadn't thought to bring a cloak with him that morning. But then again, he hadn't expected to be returning home so late either. Not only would he have to explain that to his father, but also why he was returning with less than half of the gold he had been promised.

Erasmus was going to be far more than displeased with both prospects. If he was lucky, Zelgius would only be beaten. If he was unlucky…

Zelgius pushed the thought aside. Whatever his father had waiting for him when he returned home was of no consequence. Zelgius would take it with a calm and composed demeanor just as he always had and not let his emotions get the better of him. He wasn't going to give his father the satisfaction of seeing him angry.

He thought back to his conversation with Captain Targus. If General Gawain really was accepting open admissions into the army like Captain Targus hinted, then that may be Zelgius's only ticket out of the mines and into the one place he had desired to be since he was a small boy. But Zelgius's father would ultimately forbid it for obvious reasons and keep Zelgius where he believed he belonged.

Erasmus had always called him weak, but Zelgius knew better. He was stronger than his father supposed. The beatings had taught him endurance, the iron will to accept pain when it was hurled his way. The verbal assaults had taught him to control his emotions, that losing yourself in rage and anger never solved anything. His father's own beatings of him were proof of that.

But in his heart, Zelgius knew that there was only one man who would make him strong enough to face Erasmus with his head held high.

_One day, father,_ Zelgius thought._ I will stand before you and show you just how strong I really am._

Zelgius swore on his mark as a Branded that he would do so.


	3. II: His Father's Son

_**Dark Destiny**_

**Part One: By the General's Hand**

_II: His Father's Son_

"Hold still, boy. If you keep squirming like that, I'm never going to get this wound cleaned up properly."

Zelgius winced as Captain Targus wiped the wet cloth across the wound on his forehead. "My apologies, Captain. I was just thinking about what you said earlier."

"What, about Rackson or the Guild docking more of your pay? I told you that I can only do so much on both of those accounts."

Zelgius shook his head. "No, it was about what you said about General Gawain accepting new recruits into the army…"

Targus didn't even pause in his work. "Yeah, what about it? Have you reconsidered your original decision on not joining up with the army?" His voice almost sounded hopeful.

"Not entirely, Captain. I was simply curious as to who I would need to talk to if I was able to join up after all."

"Well, as you're no doubt wondering, it isn't General Gawain. Now, don't look so disappointed, boy!" he chided, seeing Zelgius's face fall. "Depending on the area of combat you're drafted into, you'll be able to meet the General at some point in time. Don't you worry about that. But General Gawain doesn't have the time for such things as recruitment. He's got enough on his plate with all of the skirmishes against Begnion on the southern border. No, you'll need to talk to General Tauroneo. He's the one in charge of the recruiting process."

"General Tauroneo…he's the newest of Daein's Great Riders, isn't he?"

"Well, I don't think 'new' is the right word for it, but yes, he's the most recent addition to the King's most trusted generals. The 'Moonlight Knight' he's called. He, General Gawain and General Bryce were all recruits themselves around the same time, back when I was still a sergeant. I know, hard to imagine me looking any younger, eh? Ha! But there's no other man that Gawain trusts more, hence why Tauroneo is the one in charge of bringing in the ones who Gawain will train."

"So, if I talk to General Tauroneo, I'll be able join the army?" Zelgius asked.

"Not necessarily," Targus said. "Tauroneo will have to deem you worthy first, though I'm afraid I'm not entirely sure how he does that."

The comment left him a little disheartened, but Zelgius was still determined. "It doesn't matter. I can find General Tauroneo at the military compound, right?"

Targus pulled the cloth away from his head and started rummaging through his bag. "You'll find him there most of the time, but you can't simply knock on the door and ask for him. It's not an inn, you know." He pulled a pouch from his bag. "Ah, here it is!" He dipped his fingers into the bag and produced a clear, foul smelling gelatinous goop that he spread across Zelgius's forehead. Its touch burned slightly before cooling and hardening against the skin. The pain was gone instantly and only a dull throbbing remained. "There, the wound's closed up, but you'll have a scar there for some time."

"What was that?" Zelgius asked, gently touching his forehead a few times. "There's no more blood…"

"Vulnerary," Targus replied, returning the medicine to his bag. "They're neither the most pleasant nor the most effective of all remedies, but they'll work wonders when you don't have any heal staves available. Consider that as your first lesson in army medicines, should you decide to join."

Too anxious to think about it, Zelgius returned to their original topic of conversation. "If I can't find General Tauroneo at the compound, then where can I find him?"

"You have a question for everything, don't you, boy?" Targus laughed. "Well, I suppose that's to be expected, since you're cooped up in these mines for all hours of the day. Normally, you couldn't even see him unless an officer came to you personally and drafted you into the army so you could meet with Tauroneo that way. I could probably put in a word for you, but it's likely I'll be ignored just as quickly. But you're in luck. General Gawain just made the announcement yesterday that for the first time in years, the army's having opening recruiting at the Winter Festival this week, with final acceptances coming at the end of the week."

"If that's the case, they must really be desperate for new recruits, then."

"You're telling me. Too much political nonsense going on with Begnion. But the Festival is where you'll find General Tauroneo by the time it's over." A smile as crooked as the end of his pike appeared on his face. "And maybe even General Gawain himself."

Zelgius rose to his feet. "That is enough then. When I leave here, I'll find out where General Tauroneo will be during the festival. Even if I can't meet with Tauroneo until later, it can't hurt to do some poking around tomorrow morning before the festivities begin." He threw on his cloak before removing his utility belt. He hung the belt on an iron hook protruding from the cave wall. "Thank you for everything, Captain."

Targus clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't mention it, laddie. Hope you find what you're looking for and that General Tauroneo sees the strength in you. Keep a sharp eye out for Rackson, too. I don't know what the deal is between you two, but I'm smart enough to recognize bad blood for what it is."

_Isn't that the truth,_ Zelgius thought. "Farewell, Captain. I hope to see you again someday."

The cold air stung his body as Zelgius stepped outside the cave and made his way down the mountainside, choosing his path carefully and avoiding any crevices or fissures. The slick, black stone that covered the mountainside made his journey that much more perilous and threatened to send him tumbling down the hill. The black stone fascinated him and Zelgius often wondered at its true nature but he could only guess that it was a remnant of the long-dormant volcano that lay to the east of the silver mine. The rock was scattered about in loose piles and Zelgius took a fair sized rock and pocketed it away.

It was dark by the time Zelgius reached the valley floor that made a direct channel to the capital. It was a moonless night, the natural light eclipsed by clouds, but the lights of the capital in the distance provided more than enough bearing for Zelgius. It was surprisingly cold for this time of the year and the chilling winds that blew out of the mountains forced Zelgius to wrap his cloak more tightly about him. The dried sweat on his body froze against his skin. Zelgius remembered how his mother had told him that while Zelgius had only been born at the end of October when the weather should have still been tolerable, it was snowing harder that it had in years and the ground was completely frozen for nearly six months after that. That winter season had been the longest and harshest on record, so brutal that comparatively few crops had grown the next spring and even the spring after that. Even though that was over twenty-five years ago, Daein's economy was still recovering from the loss of food and goods that regularly came in from the west. The winter that was soon to follow was proof of that already. The ground now was already coated in a thin frost that was likely to last well through the following morning.

Despite the obstacles he faced, Zelgius traversed the terrain quickly and soon he had reached the southern edge of the last he was upon the great capital of Nevassa, the lights from the palace and the many lavish homes that circled it all too recognizable at any distance, whether they were being viewed from the mountains behind it or the plains in front of it. It was Zelgius's only beacon in the dark and he quickly found the path that led up toward the mountain the city was built against and the bridge that led into the city from behind.

There were only two ways for the common people to get into the Daein capital of Nevassa: through the main gate at the southern wall of the city or by way of the northern bridge that spanned the crevice separating the back of the city from the mountains to the north. Most civilians were expected to use the main gate of the city and make their way through the tiered capital that way, since the northern bridge was primarily used as a means of importing and exporting goods to and from the capital, as well as a less conventional and less heavily trafficked means for ambassadors and politicians to exit the city. But then again, Zelgius wasn't "most people". Because of his job in the mines, he was allowed to use the bridge whenever he came to and from his job. It was better than trekking all the way down the mountainside to the plains beyond and circling around the city's eastern wall before reaching the main gate. By the time Zelgius would have gotten there, it would be well past midnight and he would have to waste time arguing with the guards as to why he needed access to the city at such a late hour. And that didn't count the trek all the way to the top of the enormous citadel. There was a third option, a southwestern bridge, but it was restricted to the movement of military forces in and out of Nevassa, no questions asked.

But stranger and more incredible than everything else was the fashion of which Nevassa had been constructed. Raised in the early days of Daein, a crowning, unprecedented achievement of former Begnion senator and Daein founder Hengist, Nevassa had been built on seven levels, each of which was delved into the hill. Each level was elevated over the one before it, separated by a wall that was only crossed by means of traversing a road that began at the base of each level that circled around the entire wall running up the road before leading to a gate. The gates of the first four levels were not all placed in the same fashion; rather, they were staggered about and placed in strategic locations that should the capital city ever be invaded, an optimal defense was provided to keep enemy forces at bay as long as possible. The lowest and main gate that led into the city, the Grand Archway, was placed at the southern face of the wall, the second was placed at the north, the third at the west, and so on. The city split between the fourth and fifth levels and the walls here rose twice as high as those of the ones below it. In all the times in its history that Nevassa had been besieged, not once had an enemy breached the fifth wall, often referred to as the Great Wall. The Great Wall ran across the fifth level and down to the second level where the gatehouse near the southwest bridge lay. The center gate of the Great Wall rarely opened to the commoners of the first four levels and was largely restricted to those of the upper class and military. Guard towers that rose high enough as to pierce the very heavens and grand battlements covered the upper levels, set in accordance with extravagant homes of the nobility that were set alongside the roads that converged on the seventh and final level of the city, where the Royal Palace towered above all else. The entire city had been cut directly out of the mountainside, whittled down and shaped in the form of seven levels. The only parts of the city that was not made out of stone were the stunning stained glass windows that covered the Royal Palace.

Common was the misconception that Nevassa's structure and position were placed in complete randomness and by the sole will of Hengist himself. But as even the smallest child in Daein knew, Nevassa had been placed in precise coordination with two of the other greatest capitals in Tellius, Sienne and Melior. While Hengist had fiercely resented and opposed it, he knew that without even a tenuous alliance with Begnion, Daein would not even survive a century of sovereignty. Together, the three cities formed what was decreed as the Triangle of Unity, a symbol of peace and agreement between the three beorc nations, bound by a sacred covenant that had withstood countless wars and political scrabbles for over two hundred years. At the center of this great triangle lay the Tower of Amiton, at the southern edge of the Daein-Begnion Border Mountains, where the three countries had made their treaty and bound themselves to each other outside the knowledge of powerful Goldoa and its king, Dheginsea. The three capitals: Melior, the White City; Sienne, the Divine Realm; and Nevassa, the Black Citadel, had stood has a testament to, at the very least, a sign of friendship and toleration across Tellius. No matter what strife may arise or wars occur between these countries, the Unity was always there, a reminder of peace in the name of the Goddess. So long as the three capitals stood sovereign, the Unity would never be broken.

Nevassa lived up to its name and reputation to this day and many would find the city's beauty, history and impregnability to be unsurpassed by any other city in Tellius. Zelgius was certainly no exception. But he had no time to bask in the glory of the city from without, which was by far an improvement over the harsh Daein countryside where he had grown up. He quickly passed along the great stone bridge that spanned the gap between the mountains and Nevassa. The bridge was enormous, though not as large as the one used for military processions, and was at least twenty feet wide and more three times that in height. There were no other travelers this night and the pathway was kept clear of carts and wagons. The atmosphere here made Zelgius feel strange, like he was crossing the threshold between worlds and that he alone existed.

Zelgius, as he did every night, gave himself pause midway across and his eyesight turned down to his left, where Daein's military compound lay. It sat nestled against the mountain far below the palace; it didn't even truly belong to one of the seven levels of the city, as the large compound sat between the third and fourth levels. It could be argued that this was because the military belonged to neither the upper nor lower classes, but Zelgius didn't care either way. The compound was solitary and isolated, its windows dark as they were every night. He could see through the open roof into the main courtyard and while the compound itself was not very large in area, the training grounds it boasted were more than enough to compensate. A set of stairs led down from the compound out into the plains to the east, where the main training grounds were located. The grounds stretched out for miles, passing beyond the outer wall of the first level and along the mountains to the north. They were walled in and Zelgius could vaguely see the shadowy forms of guards pacing along the walls in their nightly routine. Zelgius thought of General Gawain, who was somewhere within those walls, and how he longed to finally meet the famed Great Rider of Daein in the hopes of freeing himself from this pathetic thing he called a life.

And if his luck held, perhaps Erasmus hadn't been informed of the army's open invitation just yet. By the time Erasmus realized what was happening, Zelgius would have spoken with General Tauroneo and been accepted into the army. It was the only option left to him and so long as Erasmus remained ignorant for the rest of the night, Zelgius could successfully outmaneuver his father.

But Zelgius was going to be late enough as it was and could not stay for more than a few moments. He spanned the remaining length of the bridge and presented his pass to the two guards stationed there at the gate. It would not have been necessary since the guards knew him by name and the exact time he arrived each night. But Zelgius was bound by his regular routine and while the gate was fully raised by the time he reached it, he stopped and solemnly raised his pass for the guards to see, who casually waved him through.

"You're on time and as stoic ever, Zelgius," one of them murmured as he passed through. "Sometimes I wonder if you have any kind of personality at all. I don't know how Erasmus puts up with your stolid obedience as a servant so much."

Zelgius ignored the man's comment and made his way along the rough path against the hillside before reaching the battlements of the Great Wall. He immediately turned to his right, taking a street that led away from the main road. He picked his way through the surprisingly large mobs of people gathered around the various shops and vendors. The streets of Nevassa were just as lively at night as they were during the day, at least in this part of the city where the citizens could afford to pay the nightly fares for goods. While other major cities throughout Tellius such as Melior or Sienne may sleep after dusk, Nevassa's nightlife was often considered to be even livelier than its activity during the day. Zelgius was immediately assailed by loudmouthed vendors attempting to sell him something completely useless and overpriced. He kept to the center of the road, taking casual glances around him at the mobs of people while keeping his gaze focused forward.

Crowded in amongst one said mob was a man Zelgius recognized. Zelgius spotted him as he tried to brush off a Daein army recruiter and before he could decide whether or not he wanted to greet him, the decision was taken out of his hands as the man turned and spotted him.

"Zelgius!" The dark-skinned man waved and hurried over. "I knew that you would have to pass through here on your way home. I didn't see you outside your house this evening at the usual time."

Zelgius was surprised, if somewhat irked, by Igor's appearance, but he used the distraction to break away from the overly-persistent recruiting officer. He didn't need to talk with anyone from the army right now except General Tauroneo. "Did my father send you to come and find me?" he asked, turning to the other man.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Igor joined him in walking up the street. "It just so happened that I was over at your father's house when I realized that you hadn't returned yet. Needless to say I was worried and decided to come and find you of my own volition."

"That's very kind of you, Igor," Zelgius said, "but don't feel like you have to go way out of your way on my account. I'm sure Igrene wanted you home as soon as possible to help look after your son."

Igor couldn't help but smile. "Eh, don't worry about it. I finished selling early today and my wife can surely manage without me for a while longer." He looked back down the street at the recruiting officer, who was now glowering after them in light of their abrupt departure. "Being hounded by more recruiters, I see. But Zelgius, why do you keep giving them about as much attention as your father gives you? I thought you wanted to join the army, or at least have a chance to."

"I don't need to talk to mere recruiters," Zelgius answered, hastening his stride. Already he wasn't pleased about being pestered by Igor, but the other man was hindering his pace. "Recruiters only sell the prospect of joining the army and make it sound more enticing and I don't need that. I don't need convincing; I need to talk to the one _in charge_ of the recruiting, not some soldier who will just tell me things I already know."

"I bet if it was General Gawain in question, you would be more than willing to lend an ear," Igor joked.

"Except that General Gawain has more important things to do, like watching the southern border."

"True. But still, they must be really desperate for soldiers if they're going around scouring the streets at night for willing volunteers. What can you do, though? With so much hostility between Daein and Begnion, the war could break out anytime."

Zelgius sighed. He wasn't going to get rid of Igor, was he? The man kept bringing up topics of conversation that Zelgius found too intriguing. If he was going to be stuck with Igor for a few more minutes, he might as well make the most of it. "What do you think, Igor?" he asked. "Will it really come to war with Begnion?"

Igor looked thoughtful. "I can't really say. Being a simple middle-class merchant in Nevassa, I'm not really privy to such information, even with such a vast information network to rely on. I've got a contact in Begnion's military that feeds me some information every so often as long as I feed him some extra for taxes and he tells me that if it comes to it, Begnion will be ready for war."

"Is this 'contact' of yours giving you reliable information?" Zelgius didn't bother to hide the skepticism in his voice. "Information from outside sources can be incredibly inaccurate."

"You say that only because you don't trust anyone, Zelgius," Igor countered.

"Can you blame me?" Zelgius replied calmly. "I don't trust you, let alone my own father, so I naturally have to question the integrity of anyone else."

"I suppose," Igor admitted. "So I won't take that as an insult. But the information is as reliable as you can get. He's an admiral in the Royal Navy but he does merchant work where he can, so he hears all kinds of things on both fronts. As you know, Begnion is always looking for ways to express their own superiority over their suzerains, and he thinks that's excuse enough to go to war. That, and Daein doesn't have friendly relations with much of anyone nowadays, Begnion and Crimea most of all."

"Kind of makes the whole 'Triangle of Unity' scenario moot, doesn't it?"

"I think it's more complicated than that, but that's one way of looking at it. I do know that with war brings more jobs and profits, as well as fame, so if Begnion decided to assault Tor Garen, I'd imagine the King and his Riders would jump at such an opportunity to show Begnion what they're made of."

"If it involves teaching those disgraceful Begnion aristocrats and senators a thing or two, I'm all for it," Zelgius replied. "And if I can join the army and help in any way possible, it would be nothing short of a great honor. When was the last time Begnion and Daein broke out in hostilities that exceeded minor skirmishes but didn't escalate to a full-scale war?"

Igor shrugged. "Dunno. It's hard to really draw the line between border scraps and real battles. Probably not since your grandfather sent Erasmus to live with me and my family back when we were both kids."

"Igor, I will ask you again as I always have," Zelgius said, taking eager advantage of the obvious chance to turn the subject in his favor. He stopped walking and turned to face the other man. His voice lowered to a whisper. "My grandparents, who were they? All I know is that my grandmother was one of the bird tribes. And I only know that from the arguments my parents have had in the past. They have something to do with the way my father treats me, I just know it—"

"And I will answer _you _in the same way that _I_ always have, Zelgius," Igor replied. "It is not my place to tell you that. Admittedly, I don't know a whole lot more than you do, but I don't think I'm exactly the right person to tell you that."

"Then if you won't tell me, who will?" Zelgius demanded. He probably sounded more desperate than he intended to. "My father gave me the same answer every time I asked him when I was child, if in a more abrupt manner than you, and my mother is too much of a coward to go against my father and tell me herself. You're the only one left who knows my father well enough to tell me."

Igor sighed and began walking again. "Zelgius, I believe you'll find that there are truths in life that you'll have to discover for yourself instead of having them revealed to you. You can't just expect everyone to tell you everything, especially out of desperation."

Zelgius caught him by the arm. "Now, _that_ is not in your place to tell me, Igor," he said, his voice suddenly filled with anger. "What do you know about living the life I have been forced to live for twenty five years? Don't try and preach to me about something you don't fully understand."

Igor frantically tried to pull away, but Zelgius's grip was as strong as his father's was. "Y-your father said something of that matter to me long ago," he stammered. Clearly something about the situation brought back a painful memory. "As with your father, I didn't mean any offense by it, only that I'm trying to help you. You're starting to sound like him, Zelgius, whether you like it or not."

"With that in mind, you should not have said such a thing," Zelgius said, releasing his hold on Igor's arm. "And I don't want help from anyone, especially from someone who takes pity on me simply because he can." He gave Igor an apologetic look. "I do apologize, though. Sometimes it's hard to control those impulses that my father passed on to me."

"Well, that's fine then." Igor shrugged and handed him a pouch that, when Zelgius opened it, contained at least twice of what Zelgius currently had in his possession. Why was it that everyone was paying him tonight, even if one time had been for his job? "But I'm going to give this to you anyways, whether you like it or not."

"I couldn't possibly accept this, Igor," Zelgius protested. "It's too much, at least. You and Igrene need this more than I do." He started to hand the pouch back, but Igor stayed his hand.

"I've already given it to you, Zelgius," he said. "I couldn't possibly take it back now. It would go against my own beliefs."

"While I respect your philosophy on this matter, at least allow me to return half of it. Half is more than enough. I won't accept so much charity."

"It's not a charity. It's a gift from me to you."

"That's not acceptable," Zelgius insisted. "I told you that I don't need pity from you. Take it back."

Igor stubbornly shook his head. "No can do, Zelgius. It's yours now. Do whatever you feel will make you the most happy with it."

Zelgius sighed. "If you're that insistent about it, then fine. Perhaps I can use it to pay my father in full—"

Again Igor stopped him. "That's the last request I have for you, Zelgius. Don't hand it over to Erasmus. You already give him enough money as it is. Please, use it for yourself. Igrene and I both agreed that would be best. If you happen to make it to the Winter Festival this week, then perhaps you can use it there."

Before Zelgius could debate the matter further, a beggar on the side of the street darted out from the shadows and up beside them, tugging on Zelgius's cloak. They must have seen Igor pass the money to Zelgius because their free palm was turned upwards. "Care to have your fortune read, sir?"

Zelgius turned slightly to face the beggar. It was strange enough to see one in the upper levels, but he was more surprised to find that she was nothing more than a girl, perhaps no older than ten years old. The look on her face was that of innocence and youth and it was possible that she was even younger than Zelgius presumed, especially considering the fact that she barely came up to Zelgius's chest. But the most stunning aspect about her was not her age or size, but her hair, which was purest shade of silver that Zelgius had ever seen, so pure in fact that it made the silver in the mines look dull and tarnished. The clouds had cleared and it was almost luminescent under the light of the full moon.

But why, after he had been down this exact street every day for the past five years, had Zelgius never seen her before?

The girl's piercing yellow eyes found his. "Would you like to have your fortune read?" she asked again. Her hand slid into his and while they looked thin and frail, her grip was quite strong.

"We have no time to waste on beggars like you," Igor said before Zelgius could respond. He started to shoo her away. "Make yourself scarce, girl."

Zelgius pushed the man back. "Igor, what's gotten into you? There's no need to be so curt with her." Zelgius turned to girl and gave her a kind smile. "I'm sorry, but we're in a rush. Another time perhaps."

The girl reached out for his hand again when he pulled it away. "Are you sure? I won't even charge you as much as I would someone else."

Zelgius looked at the girl's ragged clothes. "But why would you do that? You clearly need the money and can't afford to be too picky."

"Because you're different than the others," the girl insisted. At the comment Zelgius pulled his hand away. She wasn't visibly hurt by the comment, but she slunk away all the same. "I can tell there's something strange about you, different and yet…somehow familiar. I don't even need to do a reading to tell that your story is a sad one and your life has been full of anguish and despair—"

Zelgius took more than a few steps back. "I think you've said quite enough!" Fortune teller or no, he was furious that someone had looked into his soul so quickly. Zelgius was gone down the street in an instant, with Igor hot on his heels, but the girl called out to him once last time.

"I will see you again very soon and when I do, you would do well to listen to what I have to say!"

"Zelgius! Slow down a bit, will you?" Igor hurried to keep up. "Are you in such a hurry to get away from her that you would rather rush to see your father?"

"You heard what she said," Zelgius growled as he whirled on Igor. "Anything that my father can throw at me would be preferable to listening to another word of what she has to say! How can you be so ignorant about this, Igor? Or is it that you truly just don't care to think about it?"

Clearly surprised to see Zelgius upset so easily, Igor put up his hands in a warding gesture. "Okay, okay, calm down, Zelgius. I'm sorry I keep bringing this subject up, or at least causing it to surface. If you would like, I can leave you now since you're almost home."

"I thought that you would have done so by now, since your own home is down on the fourth level."

"I know," Igor said, "but one thing still bothers me." He took a glance back down the street. The beggar had disappeared, but even Zelgius knew better not to think that she wasn't still watching them. "All things aside, there _was_ something strange about that girl, don't you think? Especially since she could read you simply by touching your hand. Ridiculous fortune telling or not, it wasn't normal."

"She did strike me as more than unusual," Zelgius agreed as he took a deep breath to steady himself. _Calm your mind,_ he told himself. _Empty it of all emotion. Don't allow your father to intrude upon the last safe haven you have left. _"The way she talked made it seem like she was far more knowledgeable than she appeared. It was almost as if she was…" He trailed off.

"Almost as if she was what?" Igor asked.

Zelgius shook his head. "Never mind. It is an idle thought. I just thought she seemed…familiar was all."

"Familiar? Where could you have possibly seen here before, Zelgius?"

"I didn't say that she looked familiar," Zelgius corrected him. "When she touched me, it felt as though I had seen something in her that I've seen in myself. I can't explain what that is. Just a feeling is all."

Igor let the conversation drop. "Well, maybe you can figure out this feeling of yours after you meet with your father," he said, stopping at a break in the iron picketed fence to their right. "You're home now, so it will have to wait for later."

The realization that they were standing in front of the mansion surprised Zelgius, since he hadn't even noticed it on the approach. It was far bigger and taller than any of the ones around it, though it still paled in comparison to the Royal Palace far and above to its right. The only aspects of the home and its grounds that weren't set in black stone were the windows, which were tinted in red, and the lush gardens that lined cobblestone path to the main entrance. Zelgius's mother had never failed to keep the gardens beautiful and alive, even in the midst of winter's coming. Some kind of magic at work there, Zelgius assumed. It gave the mansion a slightly more comfortable feel, something Zelgius had been able to hold on to.

Zelgius stepped forward but Igor stopped short of the walkway. "Well, Zelgius, this is where I leave you." He almost seemed hesitant to get any closer to the house, as if taking even one more step would burn him.

"You're not coming in with me?" Zelgius asked. "If you do, it will be much easier to explain to my father why I'm so late again."

"No, I'm not brave enough to face your father," Igor said. He looked up at the mansion. "Not any more, at least. The drinking spell he went through may be long over, but that doesn't change the fact that he's still prone to anger if you don't choose your words carefully. You know that better than I do, Zelgius. If you feel you have to lie, go right ahead. Even mention my name if you'd like. It likely won't help you, but you never know." He patted Zelgius on the shoulder. "Farewell, Zelgius. I'll be seeing you again shortly." He smiled. "Good luck."

Zelgius didn't watch the small man go, for his mind was already too preoccupied with other thoughts. How _was_ he going to explain to Erasmus why he was late again? He could lie, like Igor suggested, maybe claiming that there had been an accident in mines that kept him. But his father had always possessed a knack for sniffing out lies and half-truths, largely due to his career as a politician.

But Zelgius was through stalling. If he possessed any shred of courage, he would deal with his father, whether the man was drunk or not.

He didn't take his time approaching the mansion and Zelgius pushed the door open just a crack and peered cautiously inside. It was mostly dark, the only light coming from the small candles mounted along the walls of the entrance room.

Even after five years of living here, Zelgius had never felt comfortable living in the house; the mansion was even more lavish on the inside than it was out. The walls were draped with crimson tapestries and banners of such sort, standing in blatant contradiction to the rest of the house, which was, like all the others, built entirely out of gray stone. The crimson decorations were largely there due to Monica's roots, as she had belonged to a wealthy family in Begnion before meeting Erasmus and traveling to Daein. Zelgius didn't much care for the overly lavish decorations because for one, he didn't see the purpose in flaunting wealth, even if it was in the privacy of their home. All it did was make Zelgius look like another supercilious noble and Erasmus always did what he could to make himself look that way, even if it was showing the colors and signs of a family in another nation. Anything to bring his own prestige up. Outward tolerance of less than desirable neighbors made you more appealing in the eyes of the people. But all of it was in total disregard to Zelgius's own loathing of the Begnion Empire, since he knew his history as well as everyone else. It didn't matter in the slightest that his mother hailed from there; in Zelgius's eyes, the Begnion Empire had always been the symbol as the enemy to the free people of Tellius. Daein was, despite its harsh winters and pyramid aristocracy, the only place Zelgius had ever called home and he quite liked the civil and political liberties he could have here on rare occasions. Begnion was far too wrapped up in custom and restrictions for his taste.

Zelgius moved quietly through the main room towards the stairs in the east wing and still there was no sign of his father. Perhaps he was out. Erasmus had sworn off heavy drinking, but it didn't mean he couldn't go out and enjoy a few drinks. Igor simply could have been assuming things when he thought that Erasmus had noticed Zelgius's absence—

"You're late, boy."

_Damn it._

Zelgius froze halfway through the room and turned. His father was standing on the main stairway leading to the second level of the house, with a far more than stern expression on his face. It wasn't that the look on his face surprised Zelgius, he was used to it after all the years, but there was something unusual about it. His father's face was stretched tight, like a bedspread pulled taut across a mattress and creased on the corners. He wouldn't retain his youthful appearance forever, after all. That said, Erasmus had still retained his muscular form after all these years and while Zelgius was of a suitable size himself, Erasmus made him look tiny and insignificant in more ways than one. At times Zelgius thought himself to be looking into a mirror every time he saw his father and further proved the fact that he took after Erasmus more than Monica.

_Let it only be a likeness of the appearance and not a reflection of the soul,_ Zelgius thought.

"Good evening, father," Zelgius said earnestly, but not cordially. He wasn't going to show his father compliancy but nor was he going to give his father any reason to become angry. If he remained emotionless, perhaps he could make it upstairs without a scratch.

"You can dispense with the pleasantries, Zelgius," he said. He strode purposefully down the stairs and stood before his son, stopping only two feet away. He was still dressed in his robes of office, a heavy black cloak that sported a large collar around his neck. It still amazed Zelgius that his father had barely aged a single day since Zelgius had been born. Laguz blood notwithstanding, it was still astounding. Only in the past several years had he truly showed signs of aging.

Erasmus glanced at the closed wound on Zelgius's head. "Hurt yourself again today, boy? Likely explains why you're late."

"Rackson," Zelgius replied evenly.

"Tsk. Picking fights with your cousin just like you always have." Erasmus extended his left arm. "But I'll deal with that later. The gold. It's the end of the week."

Zelgius pulled the sack containing the gold from his cloak pocket and quickly handed it to his father, who began to count it in earnest. He made sure it wasn't the pouch Igor had given him since it was far more than Zelgius would have earned and Erasmus would have immediately suspected something. Erasmus didn't notice Zelgius slip two gold pieces from the bag and into his own pocket, inside the pouch of gold Igor had given him.

Erasmus noticed the missing gold pieces immediately. "You're short, boy," he scoffed. "At least a dozen gold pieces." Erasmus's face contorted with rage. "You've been shirking on your work again, haven't you?"

Zelgius already had an excuse prepared. "The silver ore in the southern mineshaft dried up today," he lied, still nervously fingering the other coins in his pocket. "There was no time to seek out another shaft. You know that the miners get paid on the amount of silver they bring in each day—"

Erasmus shoved his way past him. "I know how it works, you imbecile! I don't need to be lectured by a worthless piece of scum like you. But that still doesn't explain why you were late." He made a half-turn back to Zelgius. "Again," he added.

"Well—"

"I don't need to hear any more of your lame excuses, boy!" his father shot back. "Do you think I truly care _why_ you're late every night? Why would I even care about that when I haven't bothered to about anything else about you?"

"Nothing except the money I earn," Zelgius mumbled under his breath.

"What did you say, boy?"

Already the anger was beginning to rise from within. "Nothing, _father_. You have your money, then. If that's all you need, I think I'll excuse myself."

Erasmus seized his right arm and pulled him back. "I did not dismiss you, boy," he hissed.

Zelgius held his ground. "Are you going to beat me again?" He wasn't going to back down. Zelgius had backed down enough times in his past. Nor was he going to give Erasmus the satisfaction of seeing him angry. "If you are, I won't stop you. But if you do it now, mother is not going to be pleased when she returns any time now."

Erasmus growled in frustration. "You think you can always use that shield on me, don't you?" he said through gritted teeth. "And I bet you also think she actually cares about a worthless maggot like you."

"Why shouldn't she?" Zelgius asked, still retaining his composure and bottling up his anger. "She loves and cares about you."

The last bit slipped out and for it Zelgius earned not a backhand to the face or a knee to the gut, but a full-forced blow to the face from Erasmus's enormous and clenched fist that connected with Zelgius's nose. Zelgius did not budge an inch as the bones in his nose shattered and blood sprayed through the air. Only his head moved as it snapped back violently. The subtle nudging in Zelgius's head told him where the blow was coming from and quicker than he thought that he could ever move, Zelgius brought his left arm down in a warding motion and slapped Erasmus's second strike to side. Erasmus, furious that he son had defied him, struck out again from the right. But Zelgius was ready and just as he had done to Rackson, brought his leg up and shielded his exposed side.

The maneuver left Erasmus vulnerable but Zelgius stayed his hand. Erasmus took the opportunity to grab Zelgius by the scruff of the neck and pull him close. "What's the matter, boy?" he taunted. Zelgius's inaction clearly amused him. "You could have hit me square in the chest and yet you stood there like a statue. Pah. Are you too cowardly to fight back?"

"I am _not_ you," Zelgius spat. The pain in his face was making it increasingly difficult to hold his emotions in check. The anger boiled up from within him like a volcano waiting to explode, stemming from a source deep with his body. "I am not going to fight you just to satisfy my own anger. I will not stoop to your level."

"You forget your place, wretch," Erasmus said through gritted teeth.

"It's right here, showing you that I'm not as weak as you supposed. While I may hate it as much as you do, I am your son and whatever strength you possess I'm likely to have as well. Our brands can tell us that much if our actions cannot."

"Perhaps I should send you off to the military when, by society's records, you're of age," Erasmus mused. "Let one of Daein's generals like Bryce or Lanvega beat some sense and obedience into you. That ought to straighten you out."

"We both know why you can't do that." Zelgius wiped the blood from his nose. "As far as the general populace is concerned, I'm not even supposed to exist, remember? I'm just a servant in your house here to earn you money and I know that you won't let that go. Then all of the cover ups and keeping the rest of the family quiet would all be for nothing. And then _your_ reputation would suffer because of me when they found out about my brand." The last threat may have been idle, but Zelgius did what he could to make it sound plausible.

A cruel smile spread across Erasmus's face. "You're bluffing, boy. You wouldn't dare try that. You're as good as dead if that happens."

"Then at least I'll drag you down with me."

"You're a goddess damn fool for even thinking that. You haven't been alive as long as I have and you don't understand just how horrible it would be if you were exposed."

Wait, was Erasmus, in some odd and indiscernible way, actually _protecting_ Zelgius from the horrors he would experience if anyone found out about his history? Or was it the cleverly concealed lie that Zelgius had perceived, that Erasmus only cared about himself and his reputation and wouldn't risk the slightest blemish to his name?

"Your naivety disgusts me. The fact that you're so dimwitted as to make hollow threats proves how utterly useless you are." Erasmus released Zelgius and shoved him in the direction of the stairs. "Now, get your worthless hide upstairs and stay there. I'm wasting my time with you." He pocketed the pouch of gold. "I don't want to see you again for the rest of the night and if I do, I swear by the goddess Ashera I will beat you until you can barely breathe. And wake your sister and have her take a look at your nose. Your mother will be home soon and I can't have you looking like a beaten ragdoll while she's around, even if you gave the excuse of getting into a fight with Rackson."

"I won't have to wake her," Zelgius said, looking past his father. "She's standing right behind you."

"Good evening, father!"

Erasmus turned to face the girl behind him, who was no more than eight years old with dark black hair. Her face was that of youth and innocence and at times Zelgius thought himself to be looking at his mother when she had been younger. Her clear blue eyes in contrast to Erasmus's green ones were proof enough of that.

"Maria, my dear, _you_ were supposed to be in bed already," Erasmus said as he lifted her up and put her in a sitting position on his arm. Rather than sounding stern, his voice full of love and affection. Zelgius was instantly forgotten.

"I know," Maria admitted, looking a little guilty. "But I thought I heard you and my brother talking, so I wanted to come and see you! You're both so busy that I don't get to see you very often." She hugged him tight before looking over at Zelgius. She gasped when she saw his face. "Brother, you're bleeding! What happened to your nose?"

"Don't you worry about your brother, Maria," Erasmus said before Zelgius could say anything. "But how is daddy's little angel this evening? Did you make your father proud at the academy today?"

Maria kissed him affectionately on the cheek. "I sure did, father! Master Pakku was so impressed with my spells this morning that he let me practice with healing staves this afternoon!"

"Then perhaps you can use what you've practiced on your brother," Erasmus growled, putting her back down. "Zelgius can't seem to stop getting into fights with your cousin and he's doing more than making me look bad."

"Okay!" Maria exclaimed, running off towards the stairs. "Come on, Zelgy! I'll go get my heal staff and meet you at your room!" She was gone in an instant and Zelgius followed her quickly, glad to finally be rid of father for the night and satisfied that he had successfully kept his father and his anger at bay.

"And one more thing, Zelgius," Erasmus called and out of the corner of his eye, Zelgius saw the nastiest smile he had ever seen appear on Erasmus's face, stretching ear to ear. "Don't think I don't know what you're up to. I could tell by the way you walked in, the look of apprehension on your face you when you realized that I hadn't gone out yet. I know that you've been talking with army recruiters much more than usual lately, since that fool Igor already let that slip to me."

Zelgius didn't turn and his hand clenched tightly about the wooden railing. _No. He can't know. He's lying, just as he always has. He's been too busy to even know about it._

Erasmus laughed. "Ha ha! See? Look at you! I've frozen you solid! You know I'm right! You're so weak, Zelgius! You tried to call me on sending you to join the army and yet you didn't even realize that was a bluff itself! Did you really think that I'd just send you away to the army where I wouldn't have any control over you anymore? Your one chance to be rid of me once and for all; and a pathetic one at that. I bet you were hoping that fool Gawain would take you into his army weren't you?"

Zelgius closed his eyes. "Father, I simply thought that—"

"But do you hear me, boy? Mark my words, there's no way for you to 'escape' this. You have nowhere else to go and for as long as I draw breath, your worthless life is going to remain subject to my demands! There's plenty more to come and with time, perhaps you'll learn your place."

And as Zelgius climbed the rest of the stairs to the second level the only things on his despairing mind were the slamming of the west wing door and Erasmus's hollow and mocking laughter echoing through the walls of the house.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Well, I wanted to get this out last month, but two things were in the way: **1)** College came upon me quicker than I thought, so I was very busy and **2)** NO ONE told me that _Darksiders_ is one of the greatest games EVER made (Aside from Fire Emblem, Zelda and Golden Sun, of course). Honestly, I spent about as much time playing that in the past two weeks as I have writing this chapter over the past month! That said, I hope this lived up to the expectations of my rapidly growing group of readers. I know it was mostly dialogue and description, but I'm setting the scene here for what happens in the next several chapters. Let me know how I did with that. And I hope I described Nevassa well enough, but if you want a better picture, look for it on Fire Emblem Wiki.


	4. III: Gifts of Steel and Promise

_**Dark Destiny**_

**Part One: By the General's Hand**

_III: Gifts of Steel and Promise_

The nights were always the same: dark, cold, lonely and devoid of anything that made him feel as though he was safe and felt a part of the place he called home. Secluded in a corner of the mansion that was essentially forgotten by all who belonged to it, servants and residents alike, there was no warmth, no light, and no reason to even value the fact that he had a roof over his head at night and a meal on the table each morning. He didn't exist, caught in a strange limbo where there was nobody but himself.

_No, not alone._

A voice was speaking to him, a melodic and enchanting sound that came not from inside of him but from some distant source. It came to him, as it did often, as a soft and subtle humming and not unlike the tones of the hymns one might hear in a cathedral built in honor of the Goddess. In spite of the fact that Zelgius had always rejected the Goddess Ashera (though secretly and in the privacy of his own mind), it was for this reason that he did not fear the voice at its coming in the dead of night. It first came in form of a song, a low melody that sounded like a lullaby. It was such a woeful sound and felt real and tangible all the same and for some reason, Zelgius knew that it was coming from _somewhere_ and from _someone_, not simply a figment of his imagination brought forth by his fragile mind. There was no way of telling if it was male or female, it was just…there, speaking to him as though it had nothing better to do. He had never bothered to ask about its origins, partly because he feared to learn the truth.

Not to say that he wasn't curious.

"_I have been watching you,"_ it always said, _"we have always been bound to one another and while your situation does not puzzle me, your emotions do."_

"Who are you?" Zelgius had asked at first, more than a little frightened when the voice had first come to him. "What do you want with me?" Yet it never answered and resolutely denied his questions on the matter. It seemed disinterested in itself and far more concerned with him instead.

In such a sad croon, _"Spare not a thought for me, my child. I only seek to understand your pain."_

Tonight it sounded far more melancholy than usual. _"My child," _it soothed,_ "why do you despair? Why do you not embrace who you are and cherish the life you have been given? There are those who care about you."_

To this Zelgius answered in the same fashion he always did and still it irked him that this voice always asked the same of him. Sometimes he would ignore it and other times his impatience got the best of him and he answered in the hope that the voice would go away. "I cannot expect you to understand," he whispered, turning over on his side and pulling his tattered blanket tighter against him. "You have not endured the pain I have suffered for so long and will never comprehend such things. If there is anyone who cares about me, they do not show it."

"_Oh, but I do understand, my child. Far more than you will ever know. You know not what it is like to truly be cast aside by everyone, betrayed by your own ideals when you simply sought to bring the world together in peace."_

"Then we are one in the same and your words can offer little to no comfort at all. The past that brought me into this world is not solely to blame for what I have become now. Because of what I have done and what I have _not_ done, I can never be free." He shut his eyes tight. "I didn't do enough. I…wasn't…strong enough."

"_My child, you speak as though there is something more than your twisted past and cursed ancestry that ails you. What secrets do you hold? Why do you blame yourself and not the one who holds you down?"_

Zelgius's eyes suddenly grew heavy and his vision blurred. The voice was still speaking to him but its words were faint and indiscernible, only a soft humming sound as its words faded away into a jumbled mess as another tormented night of sleep began to overtake him once again. The strange lullaby would not stifle the nightmares he was bound to have and with his last shred of consciousness, he found himself answering the question.

"I ran away."

-X-

_There was a pounding on the door that sounded over even the deafening claps of thunder that boomed from without the small house. It was more than just a subtle and gentle rapping. No, this was far from that, a hammering spurred by a drunken rage and full of malice and hate. There was a fumbling with the doorknob but before the door could swing open, Zelgius darted forward and threw the iron bolt into place._

_Something large slammed against the fragile wood and the hinges rattled. "Open this door, you worthless maggot or you're really going to get it!"_

_His father was drunk again._

"_I SAID OPEN THIS GODDESS DAMN DOOR AND GET OUT HERE, YOU WORTHLESS OFFAL!"_

_Zelgius still didn't answer and stayed huddled against the door, doing what he could to stifle his own anger and block out his father's harsh words. After a time his father either grew bored with his silence or exhausted his supply of liquor and stomped away. But where Zelgius hoped the commotion would stop, it began anew in a matter of seconds. Only this time Zelgius wasn't the target._

_His father came first. "You told me that it was safe to bring him out, that there was no need to live in fear and isolation any longer!"_

"_It was a mistake! I told you it was a mistake! Don't you ever try to blame me again!"_

_Again, the screams._

_"He is _not _my son! He will never be my son! From the day he was born, I never wanted him to be my son! Throw him out! He can carry out his wretched existence elsewhere, somewhere far out of my sight! It's not my fault he is the way is and I want nothing more to do with him!"_

_His mother responded again from somewhere, but her voice was so much softer and it was impossible to tell what she was saying._

_"I never wanted this for him!" Erasmus bellowed back. "All I wanted was him to live without the shame of his ancestors!"_

_This time Zelgius could hear Monica. "But you love your daughter! Why can't you find it in yourself to at least care for him?"_

"_Because she isn't him! She actually has somewhere to belong to, something to live for in her life! Until I'm rid of Zelgius, she's better off staying in Nevassa with your sister and her cousin!"_

"_You're being ridiculous! Stop blaming Zelgius for your father's mistakes and your own insecurities! Do not think to blame him because you can't go back to the capital and resume your job there! You know why the King sent you on temporary leave for the next year!" The shouting continued for another hour before it completely faded away and only silence remained. By then, Zelgius had made up his mind and was ready to do whatever was necessary. He wasn't going to abide by this much longer and he wouldn't get another chance at this._

_So he ran. He ran without a second thought or as to where he might be going. He simply ran, never giving it a second thought, leaving the cold, unforgiving Daein countryside and the place he had never called home behind. He didn't care where he would end up, who would find him or what would happen to him in the long run. Zelgius didn't care. All he cared about was escaping his father's rage and hate for him and the brutal treatment of him and his mother._

_He didn't run just because of his father or because of his mother's inability to adequately stand up for him. Zelgius ran because it didn't matter where he went or what he did, he might have a chance of outrunning his past and all of the ties he had to it. He was old enough to fend for his own and while he may only look like a child, he knew better than to think of himself as one._

_With his father passed out in his bedroom and the sounds of the thunderstorm more than enough to cover his departure, Zelgius crept out of his room and packed what provisions he could, seizing whatever water, salted meat and hard biscuits that he could carry. His only source of light came from the flashes of lightning outside as he hurriedly shoved everything he could into a small knapsack that he strapped around his waist._

_The sword was on the mantle as he crept quietly through the main room and as Zelgius passed it by, he reached up and grabbed the blade and its sheath from its mount on the wall. Holding the sword didn't give him a sense of security as much as it did encouragement and the thought that his father would no longer possess it. He had never used a weapon, let alone even held one, but it felt strangely familiar and comfortable in his hand. Within moments he had slung the sword across his back and thrown open the door leading out into the storm surged valley. He never looked back._

_The trees and rocks strewn across the valley floor were lost in a blur as he sprinted through blinding rain to the south. Those first few minutes in which he fled felt like an eternity and he fully expected to hear someone call out for him and come chasing after him, likely his mother, but even when he risked a glance back, there was no one there, only the emptiness of a life he hoped to leave behind. He didn't know how many times he tripped and fell over rocks and protruding roots, too frantic to care about his physical well-being, but still he ran faster towards the southern edge of the valley. He didn't know how long he ran but after a time the sun rose behind the clouds and gave a dull brightness to the sky._

_The rains and wind eventually subsided and moved on and when he felt that he was far enough away and certain that he was not being pursued, Zelgius slowed his pace and eventually came to a stop at the edge of a forest probably three miles south of his home after climbing free of the valley. He didn't mean to come to a stop but he did anyways and for the first time he allowed himself to take in the reality of the situation he was in._

_He had left his home, and his father behind. Neither had meant what they should have, but it still felt strange to be away from them. And it had been _easy._ Almost _too_ easy when he thought about it. No, his father wouldn't realize his disappearance until morning when he awakened from his drunken stupor. It was a terrifying feeling for him, since he had never been out on his own before._

_But it was _exhilarating_. For the first time in his life, Zelgius had his future in his hands and the road was laid out before him, with nearly infinite directions in which to go. It was a feeling unlike anything he had ever experienced in his entire life. He felt free. He felt in control. And his father wasn't there to hold him back._

_Where would he go? Northwest, to the capital or beyond? No, even in Nevassa slums, he couldn't hide forever and would be as worse off there as he was now. He refused to continue going south out of his own hatred for Begnion and one of the laguz nations to the southwest wasn't a viable or sensible option. He couldn't hide his nature from _them._ That of course only left west, in the direction of Crimea. Crimea was liked about as much as Begnion and so journeying there would be almost as detestable, but its social structure and political freedom was more similar to Daein's than Begnion's. If he could make it across the border, then perhaps he could make his way farther west into the vast countryside. He could reach Riven Bridge by early evening if he kept a good pace._

_The weather was favorable enough as he continued on his journey west. A few clouds drifted by overhead and partially obscured the sun from time to time. The world felt so very big and he possessed very few survival skills beyond that of endurance. Zelgius almost cringed at the thought of having to hunt for his own food once his supplies ran out, but where did his strength come from if not his father? He would manage._

_His luck thus far was unbelievable. After several hours, there was still no sign of pursuit and more stormclouds to the west passed north out over the ocean. They remained there, flashes of lightning and cracks of thunder noticeable even this far south. Zelgius's confidence boosted considerably. His pace swift but even, Zelgius kept his exertion to a minimum as he conserved as much water and food that he could. He would have to make both last until he reached one of Crimea's cities, preferably Melior where he could disappear among the populace before finding settlement in the countryside. His eyes poured over the map he had torn from one of his father's tomes and noted several places he could go. The small castle city of Arbor was the most remote area of Crimea and sat in the heart of western countryside, albeit a bit too close to Gallia. Melior was far too crowded for his taste but Felirae appeared to be favorable enough. It sat close to the sea and was surrounded by smaller villages all around that lived off the land. One of the country hamlets like Ohma or Kessal wouldn't arouse too much suspicion but admittedly Zelgius knew nothing about Crimean culture so he would have to stomach Melior for a time to learn what he could about the surrounding territories._

_It was midafternoon by the time he reached the Great Bridge, quicker than expected. He slunk away into a grove of trees to his right and observed the bridge. The guards there would undoubtedly ask for his identification and reason for passing, both of which Zelgius could not afford to give. With his sword, he could probably pass as a mercenary en route to a job out west but mercenaries, even rogue ones, needed to provide some evidence of affilation with one of the three Mercenary Guilds across Tellius. He would have to get around them somehow and there was another grove of trees to the left of the bridge near the cliffside that dropped off to the ocean and if he could make it there, that was the end of that. The only problem lay in the hundred meter dash across open space it would take him to reach the trees and he would be spotted and hailed by the soldiers in mere seconds. So he was stuck until night or when the guards changed shifts. Frustrated, Zelgius could do nothing but stay hidden and wait._

_After a time, what seemed an eternity but was likely no more than half a mark, Zelgius heard the clopping of hooves upon the forest path and a wheeled caravan passed him by. Taking the obvious miracle for what it was, Zelgius darted out from the trees and behind the wagon before it exited out onto the plain. He stayed crouched behind it as it approached the bridge and when it stopped at the gate, the guards circled around to the right of the wagon to speak with the handler. The moment they had done so, Zelgius shot from his cover and spanned the remaining distance between him and his goal. He faded away into the trees and emerged behind the tent that served as the guards' camp. Taking a quick glance back to ensure that he had not been seen, Zelgius crept away down the slope that dropped off into the ocean below. He chose the easiest path that he could without exerting too much time or energy as he slid down the dry, cracked rock, seizing hold of protruding tree limbs where he could._

_He had but one final step in order to make it into Crimea and compared to what he was now required to do, escaping his father and slipping past the guards had been child's play. But trying to swim across the channel on his own would be nothing short of suicide, since he had no way of keeping his provisions and clothes dry without getting swept out to sea._

_His second stroke of luck since setting out came in the form of an old abandoned raft that lay at the base of the slope, hidden amongst fallen tree branches and reeds that choked the shallows. It was nothing more than four thick, cedar branches strewn haphazardly together and bound loosely by frayed strands of rope, but it would do. Zelgius pulled it out down current a ways toward flatter ground, making careful sure to stay hidden under the bridge._

_Stripping down entirely, Zelgius placed his provisions, sword and clothes on top of the raft and tied them down. He waded out slowly into the freezing water, pushing the raft out in front of him. The water stung his body and at the very least put a spark back into his fatigued muscles and revitalized him. He kicked out hard from the cliff, keeping his hands gripped tightly on the edge of the raft as he paddled across. The icy waters were unlike anything he had experienced before, but the tides were down and the waters calm, which made his swim across the channel that much easier._

_He fully expected to be spotted the moment he set off, but no cries came out from the bridge above and he continued on in relative silence, the only sounds being the lapping of the waters against the sides of the raft. Halfway across he spied out a rock protruding from the waters and Zelgius waded in direction of it, barely catching the outcropping as he passed it by. He hung on to it desperately, its slippery surface preventing him from getting a solid grip. He was fully under the bridge now and it wasn't likely that he would be seen by any patrolling guards. He hoisted himself onto the raft after tying it off and tried to regain some warmth to his body. He could surely give himself a moment's rest before continuing across. The warm winds helped re-stimulate his body and Zelgius wrapped a blanket around himself after drying off the best he could. The rapidly setting sun kept him from resting for more than a few minutes before setting off again._

_Determination won him the day. Almost an hour after battling the increasingly turbulent current that threatened to pull him out to sea, he reached the western shore just as nightfall was approaching. The setting sun filled the sky with a faint purple hue as it dipped below the cliff toward the waters of the Oribes far to the west. The raft eased up onto the rocky shore and Zelgius emerged from the freezing waters before falling spread eagled on the ground. He had always been physically fit, a trait from his father that he actually found useful, but he had never been tried in such a way before. The journey west already stood as a testament to his strength and fortitude. He dried himself once more and redressed, slinging the sword across his back. He didn't have time to hide the raft and hoped that he would be well away before any soldiers spotted it. Just a little farther and he would be past the Crimean guard and on his way across the countryside._

_As soon as he had shouldered his pack and made for the northwestern edge of the western cliff, a silver-tipped arrow shot past his face and buried deep into the beached raft. Zelgius whirled around as he spotted a man leaning over the bridge wall and his eyes filled with fear as the soldier called out._

"_Here he is! I found him! Lord Erasmus, we've found the one you sent word to look out for! Quickly, men! Seize him before he can get away!"_

_Zelgius sprinted for the cliff face and scrambled up the rocks as two more arrows came his way. He didn't think they meant to hit him and only thought to scare him into not moving, but all it succeeded in was making Zelgius move faster._

_Here. His father was _here_. He didn't know how Erasmus discovered which way he had gone, but that mattered was that he had. Quicker than he thought possible, Zelgius reached the top of the cliff and sprinted across the plains beyond._

_A dozen soldiers, both Crimean and Daein, were upon him instantly, weapons free as they sought to bar his path. They encircled him quickly to cut off any avenues of escape. Out of desperation, Zelgius pulled free the sword and threw back a few of them that came his way. His counters were slow and clumsy but he managed to knock down the first few that attacked him. More soldiers began hurrying across the bridge and a man dismounted from the black stallion pulling the wagon Zelgius had used for cover only hours earlier. He strode purposely down the bridge and his gaze remained fixed on Zelgius as he drew his own sword._

_The man was his father._

_Zelgius's heart sank and he found himself pinned back against the cliffside, with a dozen more soldiers around him and his father trying to break through the crowds that had gathered near the eastern gate of the bridge._

_Trapped!_

_He was _not_ going back!_

_They kept coming at him, almost stubbornly, and it didn't matter how many Zelgius managed to wound and force back, there were always more coming his way. He knew that they didn't mean to kill him and only sought to subdue him, but either one would mean death._

_There was someone else calling his name. Far and away where he couldn't see the caller. It had to be his father. The very thought of facing Erasmus now nearly drove Zelgius into a panic._

"Zelgius!"

The voice tore him from the dream and Zelgius' eyes shot open and found himself staring into his sister's face, which was only a few inches away from his own. As always, there was a bright smile on her face and Zelgius wondered how it was she could remain happy so often, especially in his presence, since she must know how Erasmus treated him. Her green eyes, so much like her mother's, stared longingly at him, as if she had been trying to wake him up for hours.

"Great! You're awake!"

"Please, Maria," he growled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he sat up, "can't you think of a gentler way to wake me up in the morning other than yelling at me? You could always try letting some light through the window or nudging me awake." He was glad that something had torn him out of his dream, but he didn't show it.

"I just wanted to make sure that you didn't oversleep, Zelgy," she said, bounding up onto the bed. "Even though you don't work today, I didn't think you'd want to sleep the whole morning away and miss the Festival!"

"I'm not going to the Festival today, Maria," he said, not giving her words another thought. "You know that. My shift in the mines starts at noon and I won't likely be back until midnight. It's been that way for three days, since father left on his trip to Begnion."

"But it's the last day!" she protested. "And mother promised me that you would take me today, since I haven't gone all week and neither have you!"

Now Zelgius was legitimately confused. "Mother said that? She told you that I would take you to the Festival this week? When did she say that?"

"This morning after I got up!"

"That's ridiculous. She's still supposed to be on her trip to Begnion and won't be back until next week. She left the same time father did. Are you sure that she didn't tell you this before she left because she was sure that she wouldn't be back before the Festival was over?"

"She told me that she returned early so that she _could_ make it to the Festival before it was over," Maria said. "And so that she could talk to you before you left."

"Before _I_ left?" Zelgius asked. This was getting more and more puzzling by the second. Did Monica know about his decision to join the army or was she just assuming things? "Whatever did she mean by that? She's never paid any attention to what I did before or where I went, so why would she start now?"

Maria frowned. "Huh? What are you talking about, Zelgy?"

"Never mind. Where is she at? I need to talk to her."

"She's downstairs in the kitchen. She's just sitting at the table and staring out into space, like she's waiting for you or something. It's really weird, Zelgy. She didn't even say anything else to me this morning after she told me about the Festival."

Zelgius threw his meager covers aside and stood up. "All right then." He peered out through the drapes covering the northeastern most window of the mansion. It wasn't midmorning, so he should have enough time to speak with his mother before his shift started. "I'll go down and see mother before you leave."

"And what about the Festival? You…aren't going to come, are you?"

Zelgius sighed. "I'm not sure, Maria. I would like to, I truly would, but whether I can or not is…complicated."

"And talking with mother will help?" she asked.

"It might. But what I do promise you is that I will see you before I leave today, whether it's for the Festival or the mines."

She ran up to him and hugged him close. "You promise, Zelgy? Because Father said there wasn't any chance you would see me at all this week…"

Zelgius smiled. At least _she_ cared about what happened to him. "If it was Father who said that, then I double promise you. Perhaps we can prove him wrong." He patted her on the head and ushered her towards the door. "Give me a few minutes and I'll see you at the gate, all right?" She nodded, still with a grin on her face, and was out the door.

Zelgius stared after her, thinking about the dream, the voice and his mother, but the dream was what plagued him the most. They were the same as the ones he always had, haunting memories of his past so similar to the ones he had thought of back in the mines or experienced that very evening. While he could keep himself from thinking about his past during the day, sleep was unrelenting in its assault of his fragile mind. They always kept him tossing and turning, either bringing him awake in a cold sweat or bringing unwanted tears to his eyes. The darkness in his heart tore at him and continued to send him spiraling into an endless despair, pushing him to the brink of madness. When he awoke each time, he was left with the same thought in his head.

His father had _always_ hated him. It had been decided from the moment Zelgius had been born. Zelgius knew this to be true now. But the most disturbing part about it all was that no explanation had ever been given. Not once had Zelgius's mother told him why or even answered Zelgius's repeated questions about it. Zelgius was forced to suffer for his father's own sake, when Erasmus should have embraced his son's nature and taught him what it meant to be one of the Branded, that there was no shame in who he was. But Erasmus had only taught him that his history was something to disgraced of, reviled for. There was no honor or dignity in who he was and his life was hollowed and devoid of any meaning or purpose. Surprisingly enough he found himself thinking that if Erasmus was dead or still alive, he wouldn't care. He couldn't even call Erasmus a father; Erasmus had never been what he claimed to be for all these years.

But what was it that Erasmus had said all those years ago and many times since then? It was always in the dream and never could Zelgius quite figure out what it meant. "I never wanted this for him," he had proclaimed. "The past wasn't my fault, so why should he have to suffer for what has happened?" And yet Erasmus still treated Zelgius like the entire thing was his fault and that he had done nothing to rid himself of the shame he bore. None of it had likely been meant for Zelgius' ears and been spewed out during one of Erasmus' drunken slurs. It was so incredibly and infuriatingly ironic: Erasmus didn't want for Zelgius all of the pain and shame he was destined to carry and at the same time, he treated Zelgius as worse than livestock. Even worse than sub-human slaves.

And his regarding his mother…he was obviously skeptical in her apparent decision to suddenly do something for him. It had always been worse that she never did anything to stop Erasmus from hating him. Oh, she could say what she would, but none of her words would ever amount to anything without some kind of action. She was always a bystander, just an onlooker, someone held frozen by some invisible bond or whatever misguided sense of love she still had for Erasmus. It was her inaction that allowed Erasmus to leave the country and not worry about Zelgius doing anything as ridiculous as joining the army. His grip was supreme anywhere, it seemed.

Of course, Erasmus had seen to it that the servants of the house never let him leave the house for the next week except for the mines under a guard but Zelgius would do all he could to sneak out anyways. The servants feared him as much as they did Erasmus, so at the very least, Zelgius wouldn't need anyone's help getting out of the house, even with the hinting that Monica was offering it. The key was avoiding Erasmus _and_ Rackson for the day before the army made its final choices for recruitment. Easier said than done but with all of the traits Zelgius inherited from his father, it shouldn't pose too much of a problem.

Still, he would just have to see what his mother had to say and if she really was going to do something.

The rashness of the actions he relived in his dreams stayed in his head as he exited the room and made his way down the hall. He had been young then, or at least felt young, still a boy and not yet even on the threshold of manhood. It had been a foolish and irrational decision, one that had earned him the beating of a lifetime when he had returned home, as well as a fated life in the silver mines. But it felt as though it had been worth it in the long run. For once, he had managed to outsmart his father and get all the way to the Crimean border before his father had been able to make a move. Five years ago it had been, not six months after Erasmus had taken temporary leave from the court due to what the king decreed to be "undue stress of unknown nature". Up until then, Zelgius had lived on a farm on the outskirts of Nevassa with his mother and his sister while his father came to them at night. But after Erasmus's leave from the court, the three of them had relocated to the fire house Zelgius had been born in years before while Maria was sent to live with relatives in the capital. That was when the drinking had begun, with drunken slurs of verbal and physical abuse, stemming from Erasmus's resentment at being "trapped" with his own son. None of it explained the _why_ as to Erasmus's behavior towards Zelgius, all of the hate and keeping him hidden from the rest of the world. Zelgius was smart enough to realize that exceeded far beyond the fact of simply being a Branded, that there was something entirely differently at play.

And now, he felt that there was someone who could tell him.

His mother was sitting at the kitchen table as Zelgius descended the main flight of stairs and made a right. She was alone, just as Maria said she would be, with her back to him as he entered the room. Her hands were folded across her lap and she never glanced up him as he passed her by. She still looked relatively youthful even after so enduring so much stress and time, credited to the fact that she had been incredibly young when she had given birth to Zelgius. That had been convenient for Erasmus because the easiest was to recognize his failure to age properly was the age of his wife. But the faint crease lines and wrinkles were beginning to show themselves. It stunned him just how much Maria resembled her and lacked essentially all of Erasmus' traits as opposed to Zelgius, who was almost the polar opposite.

"Why?" he asked as soon as he had sat down, not even giving his mother a chance to speak. If things really were how Maria said, then he wasn't going to waste time. "Why did you tell Maria that I would take her to the Festival this week?"

Monica didn't even look up him as she answered. She had clearly prepared an answer to whatever question Zelgius may ask her. "Zelgius, do you really need to question it if your mother does something to help you?"

Zelgius frowned. "Given the circumstances over the past twenty-five years, I don't think it's a very outrageous claim to make. Surely you know what Erasmus has ordered regarding me for the entire week and he returns home today, so why? Why now? Why do you suddenly appear at the most convenient time possible and come home from your own trip early?"

"I only wish to help you, Zelgius," she said sternly. The kindness was lost from her voice. "I don't appreciate the fact that my own son will question his mother when she offers her help."

Zelgius still wasn't buying it. She was incredibly stubborn and obedient to a fault, not something Zelgius had gotten from Erasmus. "That still doesn't answer my question, mother. Where is the proof of your claims, if I am allowed to ask?"

"Fine. Then let this be the proof." She pulled an object out from under the table and placed it in front of Zelgius. It was a sword, the last thing Zelgius expected to see. When Monica didn't say a word and just looked at him, Zelgius finally broke the silence.

"What is this?" he asked, eyeing the weapon suspiciously. "Have you been concealing this the entire time you've been sitting down here?"

"It is a sword that your grandfather used when he was in the army, even when he was one of Daein's Great Riders," Monica said and she reached out across the table to hand him the sword. After a moment's hesitation, Zelgius took it by the handle. It felt strangely comfortable in his hand and he pulled the blade from its sheath. Where he expected to find a blade that was worn and rusted after so much time of disuse, the steel shone bright in the candlelight. Not a single scratch or patch of rust was to be found on its silver surface. It looked as though the handle had been replaced several times. But the most striking aspect about the blade was neither its condition nor its length, the latter which boasted a span of over four feet, but the shape of the blade itself, which was a shape and design that Zelgius had never seen before.

"One edge of the blade is serrated," Zelgius breathed and recognition flooded through him. It was the same blade from his nightmare and his past, the one he had stolen when he had run away over five years ago. "How did you get this? I thought Erasmus always takes it with him when he leaves the capital."

"Before he left for Begnion three days ago, I pulled it from his wagon while just as he was departing and replaced it with another blade," she said and oddly enough, she smiled. She looked strangely proud of the fact that she had successfully connived such a thing right under Erasmus's nose.

"So you stole it? Just like that?"

"Your father hasn't touched the sword in years and the servants put it in the wagon with his other belongings simply out of habit. And being as today is your birthday, I thought I would give it to you."

"And you did it just so that you could do something for me for once, didn't you?" Zelgius re-sheathed the blade. "That was very foolish, mother."

"It's always been yours, Zelgius," she said. "Look there, on the handle, and read the inscription there."

Zelgius did. "It's written in a dialect of the Ancient Tongue." He mouthed the words roughly. "_Mol'urhool_, it says." He closed his eyes and searched through his mind, remembering the various words from the ancient speak that he had studied. "_Mol'urhool_…'Heart of Courage', it means, I think."

His mother nodded. "Correct. Your grandfather passed it along to your father before he died, though Erasmus hated the idea of keeping something that belonged to his father. He only carried it in the likelihood he would need to defend himself."

"If he hated my grandfather so much, then why did he bother keeping the sword?" Zelgius asked. "It makes about as much sense as him keeping me."

"I've never understood your father's moral obligations, Zelgius. He's always kept them secret from everyone, mostly because if the nobility finds his morals to be corrupt, they'll use them against him."

"If he has any." Zelgius handed the sword back across the table. "Take it back. I don't want anything that belonged to my grandfather or Erasmus. I've gotten enough unwanted abilities and traits as it is."

His mother frowned and did not take the sword. "You should appreciate what you have more than you do, Zelgius. The abilities you have are gifts, gifts that should not simply be ignored or cast aside."

"Gifts, you say?" Zelgius placed the sword in front of him and took the glass of water his mother had set out for him and drained it dry. "You can return a gift. I won't say that I curse my own existence, because I don't, I only wish that I had been born without those traits. I would rather live without a sight that can even give me an edge over Rackson or Erasmus."

"Your father once thought the same as you do," Monica said. "He still does, in a sense, but he's more focused on you than himself."

"Then he shouldn't blame me for his own mistakes," Zelgius said. "Taking his anger out on me is no excuse for whatever he's trying to hide. If he's looking for someone to blame, he needs to look at himself or his father."

"Zelgius, do not talk about your father that way," his mother chastised. "He could have just thrown you out when he discovered you brand and instead he decided to keep you. You cannot fault him for that."

Zelgius slammed his glass down. "How long are you going to keep defending him? He didn't keep me out of some sense of fatherly duty or some respect for his father. No, he only kept me because _you_ insisted so and that Erasmus decided that he could use me for his own personal gain, to earn him money and bury whatever guilt he has on himself."

"Zelgius, you must calm yourself—"

"I don't care if it's not my place or in my character to get angry," Zelgius said, his voice quieter now. He still couldn't keep his father's anger in check, no matter how hard he tried. "Especially with you, mother. And yet I cannot help myself because after all these years, you haven't done anything to stand up to him. You never offered any comforting words or a warm touch. And as I said, you were the reason for my staying. All you ever did was stand back and watch my father keep his tyrannical hold over me. In many ways, you were worse than Erasmus ever was. I would have thought that if you truly loved me as you claim to, you would have protected as a mother should. I don't ask that you do so now, but is a reason why really too much to ask?"

"Zelgius…" His mother touched him lightly on the arm but Zelgius pulled away. "The nightmares have been bothering you again, haven't they? I can tell. You're being more detracting than usual."

"The nightmares always bother me," he said. "Especially when I consider that they're more than just that. I can do nothing to stop the dreams from haunting me whilst I am here. I finally realized something last night, mother. My father does not love me; he never has. What bothers me most is that I cannot figure out why. It isn't jealously, but he loves and cherishes Maria unconditionally while I am treated worse than sub-human slaves. She doesn't bear the brand I do, but the longer I stay here the worse things get. I can deny it no longer. I cannot stand working in the mines anymore or bending to my father's every whim. I have to find something more worth living for."

"But you can't leave, Zelgius!" Monica exclaimed as Zelgius rose from the table. "You will have nowhere else to go! You will be cast out and rejected no matter where you end up. Do not make the same mistake your father made when he left home to go to Begnion."

"When _he_ left home?" The look on his mother's face told him that she hadn't meant to say that. "Now we're getting somewhere. Are you telling me that Erasmus left home as well, for the same reasons I did? Is that why he doesn't want me to leave again, that he doesn't want me to experience what he did and suffer because of it? That he wants to protect me being mistreated?"

"There's more to it than that, Zelgius."

"Tell me."

"No."

Zelgius threw up his hands. "And why not? Are you really too much of a coward to oppose Erasmus again? You've stolen the sword, so why stop half way? I've already figured most of it out, so why can't you just tell me the rest? It has to do with the laguz my grandfather was with, I'm sure of that."

"I just can't, Zelgius," she said. "It would ultimately do more harm than good. Please, stay here where it's safe and I promise to care for you. Please, Zelgius. I promise that mother will protect you."

Zelgius sighed. "How can you expect me to see the truth in your words when you haven't done anything to prove it? There is nothing you can do to help me. There is nothing any of you can do. Not you, not Igor, not even Maria. Whatever meager happiness I can find here will not change anything. If I cannot leave, I might as well cut short my own life. There is only one place I can go to escape all of this."

Monica seemed to see where he was going with the topic and stepped up beside him. "Your dream of becoming a soldier will not come to fruition while your father still holds your leash, Zelgius. He will never let you leave."

Zelgius looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "By saying that, you prove just how submissive you are to him. But what you fail to realize is that I can still join the army without his permission." He told her of his conversation with Captain Targus in the mines and what he needed to do in order to join up with the army, the first step being finding General Tauroneo as soon as he could.

When he had finished, his mother shook her head. "I don't like it, Zelgius. You can't just expect them to let you become a soldier simply because you ask, no matter how desperate they are for recruits. And the second your father finds out about this, even the slightest hint, he'll drag you back and keep you locked up for the rest of your days and nothing I do or so will make any difference—"

Zelgius quickly cut her off. "You see the thing about that, mother, is that you _expect_ my father to hold me on a leash for the rest of my days. Even when he isn't here. If I've learned anything over the past five years, it's that I'm every bit as strong as him." He shrugged. "Maybe stronger. He doesn't have your cool reasoning, whereas I do. All he has is cunning and completely misplaced anger and no matter how intelligent he thinks he is he can't ever look past that or his past."

Monica did not answer and Zelgius took the sword from the table. "Even if I accept this, I don't need your help to get out of here. I can do that myself."

"You were always so stubborn, Zelgius, your passion will not get you far in life, especially if you refuse to accept help from others who try to give it to you freely."

"I don't care," Zelgius said. "I will do anything to get out of here. Even if I have to get on my knees and beg, I will become a soldier. This is what I have dreamed of since I was a boy. You know that as well as anyone and nothing you say is going to change my mind."

"Then if that's the case, I won't even try and stop you. I would be lying if I said that deep down I didn't want what was best for you. But Zelgius, will you promise me one thing?"

"That depends on what you're asking."

His mother took his hand and her eyes found his. They were so much like his, albeit softer and not as piercing. "Please come back and see me before you leave, even if your father is here. I'm not ready to lose you just yet. If I can do at least one thing for you, I want you to enjoy yourself for once, my child. I know that I haven't done anything for the past twenty-five years and it doesn't even come close to satisfying it, but I want you to have this one thing. Do not go back to the mines again or allow your father demand you to stay here. If you feel like you have to find General Gawain or whoever after today, then fine. But please do not leave until then."

"Mother…"

"It's a selfish thing to ask, knowing all you've been through and that I've done nothing to stop it, but please. Take joy in what time you think you have left." She pulled him close across the table and hugged him tight and Zelgius found himself doing the same. It was the first time he had done so in years and her touch comforted him, if only a little.

_But why is it that you only seem to care about me when at last you realize there won't be any more time for you to show that you care?_

"Very well," he said aloud, breaking the embrace. "And what of Erasmus? He will be here when I come back this evening and that know I'm abandoning my shift today. If Rackson doesn't tell him first, the Guild or one of the other servants will."

"That is my last gift to you," his mother said, smiling. "I will make sure to cover up your absence from the mines, so long as you avoid your cousin. Your fath—Erasmus—has instructed Rackson and the other servants to keep a close eye on you but I've already taken care of them and the soldiers that were supposed to accompany you to the mines."

Zelgius found himself admiring her tenacity. "You paid them all off, didn't you?"

"I did. But I'm ashamed to say that Rackson will not let your confrontation in the mines go unrequited and if he sees you again, he will not hesitate to fight you, I'm afraid."

"Then let him," Zelgius said. "But it seems strange that while I'm leaving to be free of father's hold I'll still have Rackson to worry about," Zelgius said. "But of the two of them, I feel that he will be the lesser threat."

"Don't be so sure," his mother said. "While you'll still be protected by the army's regulations, I don't think that will stop your cousin." The blaring of horns in the distance made her suddenly glance outside. She hurried to the window and gasped. "Now, you must be going now, Zelgius. The Festival will start in less than an hour and you shouldn't miss the opening parade. Your sister should already be at the head of the street near the gates to the sixth level."

She grabbed his cloak from a hook on the wall and wrapped it about his shoulders. "Find General Tauroneo and do what you need to in order to make yourself happy. That's all I've ever wanted for you, Zelgius. Even if you can't believe anything else I say, please take heart in that. Take the sword with you."

Zelgius nodded and slung the weapon across his back. "I know, mother." He turned to go, opening the front the door and the wintery gale stung his face. As he was shutting the door behind him, his mother called back to him one last time.

"I love you, Zelgius."

He thought about responding, but deep down, in spite of what he had said earlier, Zelgius still wondered if he truly felt the same about her.

Maria was waiting for him outside the house as he slipped on his boots and stepped out into the open. Her face brightened his mood as always and he didn't need to say anything to tell her what he was doing.

"So you're coming with me?" she asked as she hopped up and down excitedly.

"That I am. But I'm surprised that you're still here though, Maria," Zelgius said. "Mother said that you had already gone down the path to the Festival."

Maria shook her head. "Nope! I wanted to go with you since you and mother both made me a promise. And you can't break a promise once you make one, Zelgy!"

Zelgius actually smiled. It still appeared that she, at least, cared about what happened to him, even if it was completely out of naivety. "You're right, Maria. When you make a promise, it's always best to keep it. If we want to make it to the Festival before the parade starts, we had best be off!" Maria bounded off the steps and Zelgius followed after her, allowing himself to breath in the freshness of the morning air and relish in the thought of not being trapped in the silver mines for the rest of the day.

But as if his mother's sudden reappearance wasn't surprising enough, the second Zelgius turned and stepped down off the entrance of house he was greeted with his second shocking discovery for the day. At the end of stone path, near the gate that led out onto the main road, were four of the last people Zelgius ever expected to see there, especially today of all days. Three of them were people he recognized, two of which he knew personally and one he knew only by face.

But his eye immediately caught the fourth one, for he would have been recognizable by anyone at any distance. Fully dressed his appropriately and instantly recognizable dress of the military, he stood tall and erect behind the others and his gaze never wandered as Zelgius continued on down the stone path.

Zelgius couldn't even come close to understanding why a Great Rider was standing at his front gate.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Yes, I'm still working on this! Life has beaten me to a pulp these past several weeks especially, but hopefully that will change with breaks coming up. Anyways, enough of that. More notes can be found on my LJ, but I debated for quite some time whether I should include this as its one chapter or simply include it as a flashback in the next. But with Monica reappearing I couldn't simply show it in retrospect so I went with an entirely separate chapter. I wasn't going to continue without having Monica involved somehow. I hope I kept Zelgius's dialogue in key with his character but right now he isn't quite the same Zelgius as he is in the games, if that makes sense. Still, there core fundamentals that I watch out for. And I don't like spoiling things, but to those of you who are eagerly waiting for Zelgius's meeting with Gawain, it's coming in the next chapter! This is the last "scene setting" chapter and things will really pick up in the next installment, "Day of Reckoning". I can hardly stand the suspense myself. So bear with me here; I like to build up to things. And do remember that these updates come when they can: I hate waiting this long as some of you do. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go and rest up before Skyward Sword takes over my life…


	5. IV: Winter Festival 1: Day of Reckoning

**Author's Note:** Oh, I'm such a bad person. I've been playing Skyrim over break when I should have been working on this! (Heck, I even named my character Zelgius, since my own name didn't seem badass enough). I won't be including an author's note at the end of this chapter or at the beginning of the next one because today I'm going to treat you with TWO chapters in one day! Princess Luna would be proud, I'm sure. Destinykeyblade, try not to get kicked out of the library when you see this. I think I broke my length record on this chapter alone. And no, this doesn't mean the next one won't be added for several months; I did this because I felt I should kind of make up for that long break I had both this time and last time. I didn't get much of a chance to work on this until mid-December, so I worked extra hard to get two chapters out this time (technically in one and a half months' time and I will have more notes later). Good thing I didn't take an arrow in—all right, I'll shut up now.

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><p><em><strong>Dark Destiny<strong>_

**Part One: By the General's Hand**

_IV: Winter Festival 1: Day of Reckoning_

"Zelgius, over here!" The familiar man standing closest to the gate waved Zelgius closer. "About time you came out here, boy! We've been waiting on you for nearly half an hour!"

Zelgius hastened his pace down the cobblestone path and nearly left Maria behind him as he hurried forward. Just as he had originally presumed, there were four of them standing at the edge of the gate and not one of them made any indication that they were in the slightest surprised that the very Great Rider Zelgius needed to see was standing there with them. He looked completely patient in the way he stood and was fully clad in the silver armor that made him so recognizable. He easily dwarfed Targus, Igor and the girl that hid behind Captain Targus. Zelgius couldn't see the expression hidden behind the thick brown mustache set the man's tightly drawn face but Zelgius knew for sure that General Tauroneo wasn't here on any kind of leisurely visit. Never once had he seen a Rider come here personally. The man was armed as it was said he always was, with a silver lance in his right hand.

Captain Targus waved and called out again. "By the Goddess, boy, aren't you even going to answer me? Show me a little more respect than that!"

Zelgius was still too focused on Tauroneo to even give Targus the attention he deserved. A Great Rider _here_? Zelgius wondered. The only thing that would have excited Zelgius more was if General Gawain himself had shown up. But, if anything, there was something about the way Tauroneo was eyeing Zelgius that told him this wasn't a routine visit. Closer now, Zelgius could now tell that the look on Tauroneo's face was cold and serious, yet confident and full of purpose.

_That man is dangerous,_ Erasmus had once said out of the blue, _and in more ways than one._ _Whenever that slippery demon is around I always keep my damn guard up lest he sticks me with some nonsensical military envoy request._ Zelgius had never been able to take what his father said for face value but Zelgius could tell just by the look on Tauroneo's face that the Rider meant business and _only_ business.

All appearances aside, Captain Targus was clearly an understanding, if not impatient, man. "Well, since you're not going to even give me the time of day, boy, I suppose I'll introduce you to our esteemed guest," he said with more than a slight hint of sarcasm in his voice. He motioned to Tauroneo. "As you no doubt know, boy, this is General Tauroneo. In the army, he's in charge of overseeing most of the lesser villages and towns throughout Daein and making sure they're properly defended and outfitted—"

"Captain, we are not here to explain to people what my job is around here," General Tauroneo cut him off as he turned to Zelgius. His voice was firm and authoritative. "By the look of this man here and the sword he carries, I assume that he knows not only that but my other duties in the capital."

Zelgius couldn't resist the urge to bow deeply. Apparently the stories were true about General Tauroneo's ability to read a man's intentions simply by looking at them. "Of course, General. To be honest, I was planning on coming to see you about recruitment sometime later today."

A faint smile behind the general's thick mustache appeared. "I thought as much. You look the part. We have plenty of room for new recruits in our army, er…"

Zelgius extended his hand. "My apologies, General. It's Zelgius, sir."

Zelgius barely caught the small look of recognition and the slight eyebrow raise that passed across Tauroneo's face as the Rider shook his hand. "Zelgius, eh? Interesting…" His words were barely above a whisper and he looked about ready to ask Zelgius something but remained silent.

Zelgius wanted to ask what the general meant by that, but a not-so-subtle cough from Captain Targus gave him the hint to let it drop. "With all due respect, General," Zelgius said, "may I ask why you are here today? We don't normally have visitors from the army here."

"Yes, of course," General Tauroneo answered. "Back to the matter at hand, I suppose." He resumed his rigid military speech and posture. "I have business with Erasmus Kallastar." When he said the words, there was new and surprising venom in his voice that frightened even Zelgius. "You _work_ in his household as a _servant_, correct? Can you tell me when he was supposed to return from his trip?"

The emphasis on Tauroneo's words left Zelgius slightly disturbed. "I heard sometime this evening," Zelgius managed to answer evenly. "He was supposed to return home before Lady Monica, but she returned this morning, so I can't say for sure. Lady Monica is home right now, if you would like to speak to her."

Tauroneo slowly shook his head. "No. The business I have is with Erasmus and Erasmus only. This is an official request from His Majesty and I won't speak with anyone else."

Zelgius was naturally curious but he kept his mouth shut. "I understand, General. If I do happen to see him in town today I can inform you at the earliest convenience." He paused and nodded dutifully. "My apologies of course, General. I wish I could be of more help to you."

Tauroneo remained serious, but he smiled slightly, as if he had expected such an answer. "No apology necessary. I can return this evening or send a subordinate in my place. If you do happen to see him, you can relay a message to him if you so desire. Tell him if he does not show up at the military compound by nightfall, he will be receiving another visit by me _and_ by someone of even greater importance." He gave a nod to Targus as he turned to go. "Good to see you again, Captain. Stay sharp."

Targus didn't give Tauroneo a perfunctory glance and his voice was rough. "Always a pleasure of course, General."

A tense silence followed as the five of them watched Tauroneo head back down the road and join the small patrol standing a few yards away. They never lost sight of him amongst the crowds until he turned the corner leading to the wall that bordered the sixth level.

Igor was the first to speak. "What was _that_ about? In all my times coming here, I've never seen him or any of the Riders come personally!"

Targus was equally troubled. "No kidding. Out of all of the King's most trusted men, he's always been more lighthearted and cordial than the others, although his arrogance can show different at times. Never seen him quite this serious though, even on the battlefield." He eyed Zelgius. "And he came for Erasmus, nonetheless, eh, boy? But given even that, I'm surprised you didn't jump on the opportunity to ask him about recruitment. Thought you were going to and it looks like you missed your window."

"The timing didn't seem appropriate," Zelgius said, shrugging. "If he came here for only one reason, he wasn't going to be bothered with anything else. I doubt it would have mattered if I said anything more or not. He would have told me to go to the recruiting booth at the end of today like everyone else."

Targus smiled. "Fair enough. But I'm still surprised that for business with Erasmus, the King sent General Tauroneo, of all people."

"Why would he have sent anyone else?" Zelgius asked.

"Because General Bryce has always been in charge of dealings with His Majesty," Targus said. "Anything that important enough to send a Great Rider has to go through him in one way or another." He paused. "And…the fact that Tauroneo's family has never gotten along very well with Erasmus and his."

Zelgius _had_ heard such things before, as Erasmus had mentioned something of the matter himself on a number of occasions, though Zelgius wasn't exactly privy to the reasons. Whatever they were, they no doubt fueled Erasmus' strangely "dangerous feeling" about Tauroneo, despite the fact Zelgius saw him as dangerous simply in the way everyone else did. "I suppose that's true," he said before smiling. "But I am quite surprised to see you today, Captain. I assumed that it was just going to be Maria and I for the day."

"I suppose that I should say the same to you, Zelgius," Targus said with a grin. "I was shocked when I didn't see you in the mines early this morning. I naturally assumed that you had been assigned to work elsewhere, since your scuffles with Rackson have been impeding on your work." Targus winked. "But I knew better. I have an eye for work shirkers when I see them!"

Zelgius swallowed. "Captain, I'm not here because I decided to abandon my shift today—"

"Oh, I know that! " Targus clapped him on the back. "You're more honorable than that, I can tell. I would have expected as much, since I knew once I told you about the open recruiting you wouldn't stay away for long. Just make sure the Guild gets a proper letter of dismissal or they might just haul your ass back to the mines!"

Zelgius nodded. "Situations changed, Captain, and I find myself in a position to join up. Though it was by your word that I even found my opening in the first place."

Targus leaned on his pike. "I see. I am more surprised, however, that your father allowed you to leave and seek out the General for yourself."

Zelgius's heart skipped a beat. "M-My father? What do you mean—?" He stopped short as he came to the realization. "You know about that too, don't you?"

"It didn't take me that long to figure out for myself," Targus said. "Remember, I've been in the army for thirty odd years now and I knew your father when he was still somewhat involved with the military. Admittedly I never saw him fight while he was in his prime or when he still held rank, but his reputation did more than enough. I can't fathom as to why he's been keeping your real existence a secret from everyone, being as he's been one of the strongest Riders we've had next to General Gawain." He shrugged. "But I guess that's not really any of my business."

"You knew all along? How long were you waiting to drop that on me?"

Targus smiled crookedly. "Whether I may understand it or not, I respect a man enough to let him keep his secrets." He shrugged. "Can't say if General Tauroneo knows, but even I could see he suspected something. If he does know, you can decide for yourself if you wish to play that card with him later."

More than slightly relieved that Targus didn't seem to care about any of it, Zelgius let out a heavy sigh. He hadn't realized that he had been holding his breath. It didn't occur to him that Targus knew about his brand, however; that or he was keeping it cleverly concealed. "Then why are you here, exactly?"

"It's about time we did something to help you for once, Zelgius," Igor answered instead. "I told you that the money I gave you wasn't enough and I felt even worse when your mother told me about Erasmus's decision to keep under a guard for such a time. I thought about what you said and how you didn't want any help, but, Zelgius: it's not necessarily a bad thing to accept some help every once in a while. Besides, your sister was the one who came and talked to me in the first place, which made me want to go and talk to Monica."

Zelgius now turned to Maria and found himself smiling again. "So you knew about this as well and didn't tell me? You knew that I would be coming with you, didn't you, Maria?"

Her face beamed and she hugged him tight. "You bet! I wanted it to be a surprise!"

"Well, I think it was more than just a surprise," Zelgius said, pulling away from her and folding his arms across his chest. "I appreciate everything all you are doing for me." Zelgius shifted in place uncomfortably. "It may sound strange of me to say this but…it truly does mean a lot to me. It's been so long since anyone's ever done anything like this for me. Even my mother did the impossible and paid off the guards around here just to make sure that I even made it out of the house in one piece."

"You can imagine just how easy it is to pay off Daein soldiers, really," Targus said solemnly. "It's shameful. No matter what any of the generals do or say, it always ends up happening one way or another. I won't say I'm not glad it didn't happen for you, boy, but I'd like to put a stop to it if I can. Sometimes I think His Majesty himself should step in and make a decree or some nonsense, but he has very little interest in the inner machinations or corruptions with the military."

"He's too busy with the corruption of his on rule, I'd imagine," Igor said.

"You're telling me. I'd live to see the day where we get a king that can eradicate both. But none of his heirs come from the military either, so I'm afraid that if we lose even one of our Riders, the military will slowly decay."

"But what about the King's own son?" Igor asked. "I've heard that the Prince knows more about both fields and given that—"

"Can we talk about this later?" Zelgius interrupted. "Please? Neither of you have given me a straight answer as to _why_ you're here in the first place."

Targus shrugged and answered first. "_I_ was simply told to look after your sister for the day, as per the orders your father addressed to the military. Don't know why General Bryce picked me, but it's lucky he did, eh? Again, didn't think I'd be running into you so soon again, boy."

"And you, Igor?" Zelgius asked. "Is there anything else you haven't told me?"

Igor smiled. "I'm here on purpose, of course. When I went to talk with your mother yesterday, she insisted that Maria and I help talk you into going to the Festival. None of us could stand the idea of you being trapped in the mines for even another day, with Rackson most of all."

"So that's why you gave me the gold the other day?" Zelgius asked. "In the hope that you might drop the subtle hint that you wanted to me to go to the Festival?"

Igor shrugged. "That, and I know for one that if you want to join the army, you'll need to pay the recruiting fee. What I gave you the other night more than covers that."

"Then why didn't you tell me that then?" Zelgius asked. "It surely would have been better than arguing over ridiculous pride and personal philosophy as we did."

"Then you wouldn't have accepted it, Zelgius. As you said, it was a matter of pride."

"Believe it or not, Igor, I do have pride to spare," Zelgius said. "But thank you anyways. But with all of that aside, there's still something I haven't addressed yet." Zelgius eyed the silver-haired girl hiding behind Targus. What was _she_ doing here again? "What exactly is she doing here?"

"I found her lurking outside the house early this morning," Targus said, pulling her out from behind him by the girl's skinny wrist. The look on the girl's face wasn't of fear or apprehension and she only appeared to be angry or irritated, even oddly complacent. "Even when I, or General Tauroneo, asked her why, she wouldn't loosen her tongue. Needless to say that she wasn't invited to some afternoon tea with your father and I don't like trespassers of any kind."

"What are you going to do with her?" Zelgius asked.

Targus shrugged. "Not sure really. Might take her down to the gatehouse or the barracks later to see if one of my superiors can get her to talk. General Bryce for one doesn't look too kindly on trespassing either. Still, she hasn't tried to run since I caught her, which if anything tells me that she's most likely here for you, if I can make any rash assumptions about it."

That made sense. Zelgius had obviously noticed something odd about the girl the other night and while she was clearly interested in him, it still puzzled him. And made him incredibly uncomfortable. "We can take her with us, I suppose, until you figure out what to do with her until then. Speaking of which, we'd better get moving before I lose too much time today."

Targus agreed and led the way, Zelgius right behind him and the girl with Igor and Maria bringing up the rear. Maria chatted cheerfully with her "uncle", being as she never had the opportunity to see him very much. Targus navigated the small group through the crowds of people that lined and mobbed around the various shops set up around the city streets. Being as it was the last day for the townspeople, be they commoners or nobles, to enjoy the last bit of favorable weather they had before winter truly set in there were more people than usual. There were all manners of shops and vendors temporarily set up along the roads. There was more bustle here in the streets than Zelgius had ever seen before and he was quite in awe of it all. More than slightly uncomfortable, of course, but he had largely only seen the city at night and while he knew all too well why Nevassa had earned the name of "The Restless Citadel" since the time of the Triangle of Unity, this was something else.

"So, I'm curious, Zelgius, what's _your_ plan for today?" Igor piped up as the group continued on down the path. They passed through the second barred gate unobstructed as Targus waved the guards aside once again and Igor moved up closer to the pair. "Since you already blew your chance with General Tauroneo, my guess is that you'll want to find him right away?"

Zelgius shook his head. "Not necessarily. If my father isn't to expect me back until late this night anyways, whether he returns home before that or not, then I really have all day to find General Tauroneo and speak with him without worrying about Erasmus." He looked at Targus. "Right, Captain?"

"Aye, that's right. The General'll be down at the gatehouse until dusk so there's really no rush on your part, boy."

"And mother did tell you to enjoy yourself, Zelgy!" Maria reminded him.

Zelgius winked at her. "Yes, I suppose I do have a few promises to keep myself. It would be nice to enjoy myself for once."

Targus nudged him on the arm. "Give your father a run for his money, boy. If there's anybody that can do it, it's you. That would make for some good stories in the army now wouldn't it?"

Zelgius almost felt a sense of pride at such a compliment.

"Now, there's something that _I_ still don't fully understand," Igor chimed in again as he stepped between the two of them. "I've known Zelgius' father for over twenty years and there's no way he would even let his guard down so easily. Sure Monica already took care of most of it, but why should Zelgius have to sneak around and keep his father from interfering?"

"You see, that's the one legitimate edge Zelgius has over his father, whether either one of them realizes it or not," Targus answered, looking across at Zelgius. "Am I right, boy?"

Zelgius shrugged. "Can't say. Enlighten me, Captain."

"All right then. Since apparently I've made a habit of explaining things to you, I see no reason to stop now." Targus cleared his throat. "You see, Daein doesn't have much in the way of rigid custom compared to Begnion, but when it comes to the army, we're about as traditional as they come," he said, never breaking in his stride. "The way it's always worked in the army is that any boy whose father has been part of the army needs his father's permission to enlist. The King does this to ensure that he won't get any 'weak' soldiers where he can avoid it. Otherwise you'll have to physically prove your worth elsewhere, as in duel arenas or as a mercenary or bounty hunter." Targus's voice sounded very distasteful at the mention of the last part and Zelgius presumed he had always been an advocated of so-called "real" soldiers, ones who never fought for money or fame.

They had nearly descended to the fifth level now at the main square and the Great Wall was already in front of them. The area bustled with merchants, nobles and commoners alike as they moved in and out of the gate separating the two main tiers of the city. "It's more so even if the father and son in question come from a very well-respected family," Targus continued. "Look at General Tauroneo and his family if you really want a good example. His family's been in the army for generations. Same thing happened with me and my oldest son, although my youngest won't enlist. It's fairly common in most other families, however, that if the oldest son fails to aspire, the youngest will take his place."

Targus stopped Zelgius with one arm as they reached the road that bordered the Great Wall. "Now, boy, you said that your father doesn't even publicly recognize you as his son. Right?"

Zelgius nodded. "Right. But I still don't understand—"

"That's only because you're not familiar with how we do things around here," Targus said. "Remember, I said that Daein's been so wrapped up in military custom for centuries now. We're about as rigid in the military as Begnion is with their social structure and when it comes to all of that, we don't exactly do anything 'halfway'. Since your father has never recognized you as your son, boy, and has opted to keep your existence hidden from the public, there's no way he can use any of what I've mentioned against you. I guess the only reasons he's even keeping you from joining the military are extremely personal and not something I'd really want to ask about."

Zelgius understood. "So, what you're saying is that whether my father tries to do anything or not, he can't exactly stop me from joining the army?"

Targus nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying, boy. Right now, your only obstacle is General Tauroneo."

Before the older man could usher them through the gate at the Great Wall or say anything more, Zelgius stepped out in front of him. "Now, Captain, I feel bad for asking you this since you've done so much for me already," he said, "but can I ask one last favor of you?"

"Ask away, boy." Targus put his pike forward to assist him as he limped down the steps into the main square. "I feel I'm obligated to do so, mostly because I know what you have in mind will no doubt help increase your chances for getting to the recruiting station today. Believe me, Zelgius: nothing would make me happier right now than having you join the army."

"Then would you mind keeping an eye out for Rackson today?" Zelgius asked. "I'm sure my mother wouldn't mind if you left Maria with Igor and I for a while. It would be good to know that I can try and enjoy myself without looking over my shoulder every other minute."

Targus clapped him on the back. "Sure thing. I can do that. He should still be on guard in the mines like I _told_ him to, but it's just as likely he ditched for the same reasons as you. Strange thing about that though is no one even saw him leave the barracks this morning, so it makes me think he never even returned last night. That said, he could be anywhere and _that _worries me." Targus shrugged. "Now me, I'm not interested in the Festival and whatnot, so I've got little else to do for the time being. As long as it doesn't feel like you're trying to get rid of me or anything!"

Zelgius gripped the older man's shoulder. "Never."

Targus looked back at the silver-haired girl tailing Zelgius. "And her? She's been awfully quiet, but I'll gladly take her with me to make sure she doesn't cause you any more trouble."

Zelgius glanced at the girl. She was still uncomfortably close to him, particularly his lower left back, almost like she was hiding behind him. The look on her face told him that she wasn't going to go with Targus and she might bolt if the army captain made another move on her. "As long as she promises to _me_ that she won't be bothersome, she's free to stay." The girl took the hint and straightened up beside him, nodding.

"If that's what you want," Targus said, shouldering his pike. "I'm sure I can find and break up a group of young pups fighting and causing a disruption if I get bored. That would make my day, goddess grant me."

"I can help you with that." Igor stepped up beside him. "There's always a group of young boys hanging around my wagon and causing trouble, if you'd like to help me with that, Captain. Some of them are even Daein soldiers."

Targus slammed his pike down. "Fantastic! I can help you with that and then you can go find Zelgius again while I keep an eye out for Rackson. Sound good to you, boy?"

"Of course, Captain."

Targus re-shouldered his pike. "We'll take our leave of you then, boy. If I don't see you again today, I expect to see you at the army barracks in the morning! Now, I don't know what you have planned for the day, Zelgius, but do be sure and try to familiarize yourself with a few things. That is my request for you. Keep an eye out for where most of the soldiers gather around the city, especially for guard duty, since it's something you'll need to keep in mind for later."

Targus turned back before he and Igor passed through the gate onto the path that led towards the southwest. "And do make your way over to the dueling arena on the second level, south side just after midday," he said with a smile. "You won't want to miss the duels there today." They left him then, disappearing amongst the crowds as they head down the road to the west. Unwilling to waste any more time himself, Zelgius passed off through the main gain at the Wall and on down the main road. His head still swimming with what Captain Targus had told him, he marched on in silence through the crowds.

"So, what should _we_ do today, Zelgy?" Maria finally asked as she skipped playfully down the street. The twin tails of her hair bounced along with each step she took. She was clearly enjoying her freedom of the day more than Zelgius outwardly was.

Zelgius smiled fondly at her. "How about you pick something out for us to do together? After all, you know your way around the city better than I do, even if neither of us have been to the Festival."

"Really? Do you mean that, brother?"

"Of course. I suppose it would be rude of me not to oblige," Zelgius admitted. "I could use a bit of cheering up today. After all, it is my birthday."

"Your birthday? Truly?" Maria's face beamed. "Happy birthday, Zelgy! Did father decide to do anything special for you?"

Zelgius shook his head. "You know that he doesn't care for such things, Maria. Unless, that is, it was your birthday and in that case, he doesn't hesitate to shower you with affection. But even if my place was switched with yours, I sorely doubt that it would even matter."

Maria frowned. "Zelgy, I'm confused. Why do you talk about our family like you're not one of them? You are my brother, after all."

_She's awfully insightful, isn't she? _"Ah, don't listen to me," he said aloud. "You should worry about enjoying yourself today, Maria! Why don't you go over to the food cart and get us a couple of apple tarts, hm?"

"Okay!" Zelgius handed her two silver coins before patting the girl on the head and watched her dash off, as she skipped merrily through the crowds without a care in the world.

_Why is it that's she so much different than the others? _Zelgius wondered as he stared after the girl. _She doesn't know about my brand, but even if she did, it likely wouldn't matter. She seems to understand me better than father or mother._

Because out of all the people in his family, extended or immediate, his sister was the only one who Zelgius really cared about. He hated the idea that he would be leaving here behind when he joined the army, since Maria did love him and he her, in a way.

Suddenly, the silver-haired girl touched him on the arm from behind. "I know what you're thinking, Zelgius," she said quietly as she moved in front of him.

Zelgius grunted. He had briefly forgotten that she was even there. But the gall this girl had to speak to him the same way she had before. She had clearly waited until she got him alone to say anything. "Do tell," he said sarcastically. "Does your fortune telling reveal that as well?"

She shook her head and looked modest. "No, of course not. It's just so typical of someone in your position to think certain things. You're probably thinking about why Maria is so kind to you," she observed. Granted, it _was_ only an observation, not really an accusation. "You're wondering why she's probably the only person in your family that really cares about you."

"How very astute of you," Zelgius replied as he turned to face her. "But before you start jumping to conclusions, I think we'd better start where we left off the last time we met." He paused. "Or at least start where two should after they meet."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You still haven't told me your name yet," he said sternly. "Until now, you haven't even spoken a single word to me since the other night. You were so anxious to talk then and yet you won't say anything the moment you get the chance to? And given the fact that I've told you my name and kept Captain Targus from detaining you, I don't think it would be completely unreasonable for you to do the same, out of respect."

She continued to eye him as suspiciously as ever. "I don't like large groups of people," she said finally, not in the same timid voice she had spoken with before, but in a strong, firm tone. She sounded quite different than the beggar Zelgius had run across before. She seemed confident in herself, proud even. "That's why I don't say very much to anyone. I've never been comfortable around other people, mostly because I don't feel like I belong around them. You're the first person I've met that I've actually _wanted_ to speak with more."

Zelgius nodded. "Then we're one and the same in that, at least. But it still doesn't answer my question."

She suddenly seemed angry. "I do wish you would stop talking down to me like I'm a child," she said. "We're not as different as you may think, especially in our ages. Surely you figured that out for yourself before."

"Then will you at least tell me your name?" Zelgius asked again.

The girl paused, obviously reluctant to give him even that. "Micaiah," she said finally, slowly opening and closing her eyes. "My name is Micaiah."

"All right, then, Micaiah," Zelgius said. "I apologize for my rudeness, but let me ask you this. There must be a reason you were hiding outside my house this morning. The fact that you know where I live doesn't bother me nearly as much as to why you were there in the first place. Why?"

Her reply was a short one. "Curiosity," she said as a matter-of-factly.

"Curiosity?"

Micaiah nodded. "What else? I've never gotten such a strong reading from someone as I did from you the other night, so I was naturally curious to learn more. It was bad luck that I couldn't sense Captain Targus coming before you left your house. And I guess that's also why I sounded a little too eager to talk to you. I've never met someone who felt…similar to me."

"Then I guess you could say the same for the reasons I decided to let you accompany me today," Zelgius answered. "I'll have to disappoint you and say that I won't tell you anything." He paused. "Or allow you to do another reading."

She smiled. "Don't worry. I won't have to this time, since I don't exactly need to know anything I can't ask of you directly."

"Have you even been listening to me—?"

"Can you tell me why your father hates you, Zelgius?" she asked before he could finish.

"Where in the world did that come from?" Zelgius asked, taken aback. "You're moving way too fast for me to keep up with this, Micaiah."

"That was one thing I saw when I did your reading the other night," she said, ignoring him. "What I saw…was horrible. That was what I meant by curiosity. I myself never knew my own parents, but I can't think they would have treated me with such hate no matter what I was like." She paused. "And I've answered your questions, so could you answer mine?"

"That's…not exactly an easy question to answer," Zelgius said slowly, kicking idly at a rock that skidded down the street and splashed into a pool of stagnant rainwater. He couldn't believe that he was even talking to her about this, a girl he barely knew, but Micaiah seemed somehow…different. Zelgius couldn't call it anything other than "curiosity" himself and that there was a sense of unusual familiarity in her. But the girl certainly had a way with words, as if she knew exactly what she was talking about. Most unusual, she was talking much in the same way that voice did at night.

Micaiah waited for him to continue as Zelgius took a deep breath. "If you would have asked me that very same question only yesterday," he continued, "I would have said that it had to do with time and circumstance, that Erasmus hated me simply because he did not want a son."

"It sounds like you don't think that's the case anymore," Micaiah said.

"Good guess."

"But you are strong," Micaiah said. "You have abilities that very few others have and talents some would even kill to have. If your father really is Erasmus Kallastar, then there is little doubt that you will be a great soldier if given the chance. Why would your father not commend that?" She sighed. "It's awful, just awful. I can't understand a father that would hate his son out of petty spite. He loves your sister, doesn't he?"

"If you knew my father then you might understand better," Zelgius said, folding his arms across his chest. "I know it's not jealousy, if that's what you're thinking."

"Then if not that, what is it?"

Zelgius sighed. "Believe it or not, I've thought about it a lot since the other night and I think I've come close to an answer that might get me closer to the real reason."

Zelgius closed his eyes. "I believe Erasmus hates me because I remind him of himself when he was my age and if that's the case, he doesn't truly hate me and takes his anger out on me because he refuses to take it out on himself."

Her eyes widened. "Then why does he—"

"There _is_ no why right now, Micaiah," Zelgius countered. He wasn't about to tell her a big part of the still-mysterious reason behind it. All she knew was that he was "different" and that's how it needed to stay. "Just saying that Erasmus hates me because he hates himself gets me no closer to finding out why. All I really know for certain is that he resented my grandfather as much as he does me, so if I can start anywhere, it can at least be there."

Micaiah's eyes met his again. She was clearly after something and it became apparent with her next words. "You're still hiding something," she said softly. "I can tell. You keep avoiding my questions and you're not looking at me. Would you tell me, or at least let me do a reading to find out more for myself? As a seer, I can see things most people can't, even so far as to look into their past and find something they may have forgotten or overlooked."

"Are you really going to ask me that?" Zelgius answered, his tone irate again. "Your reading before already took more than I would have liked and you only did that by touching my hand. I don't trust you and more importantly I don't even know you, even if you claim to be 'similar' to me. I haven't ever explained my past to anyone before and I'm not about to do so to a complete stranger."

"Well—"

"This might be overly presumptuous, but I'm guessing you only want to know for your own personal knowledge and so that you can maybe find something more out about yourself."

Micaiah took a few steps back. "If you can let me help in some way, you will thank me later, no matter what you think," she said. "I could only look into your future and not your past."

"No. Forget it." Zelgius let his arms drop as leaned back against the wall. "Can we please talk about something else or move on down the road? I don't particularly like the fact that I have to spend my last day in Nevassa talking about my father."

It surprised him that Micaiah still refused to back down. "But I have thought of something that might actually help you," she said, looking down at her feet and folding her hands behind her back. "Even just a little insight that might assist you in your dealings with your father and yourself."

If anything, Zelgius had to admire her stubborn persistence. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

Micaiah looked up at him. Zelgius found her eyes to be strangely captivating. "I can't let it go," she whispered. The closeness of her body to his made Zelgius incredibly uncomfortable; she nearly had her chest pressed up against his. "It's because I know you're different. I've never been able to truly help anyone in my entire life and now when I feel that I can, I won't just let it slip by. If you will let me, Zelgius, I can help you find yourself."

"Find myself…?"

"Please, just listen. Remember how I called out after you the other night and said you would want to listen to what I would have to say the next time we met?"

"Yes, I do," Zelgius said. He had all but given up trying to argue with her now. "If you have something to say, go ahead, but if you go too far I'm turning you back over to Captain Targus at the end of the day."

"Thank you," she said. "Because I did see one specific thing in that brief moment I touched your hand that night. It was more than just the pain of loneliness and isolation that I saw initially and it was something…stranger."

Zelgius didn't like where this was going. Was she playing him? She was _too_ curious. "What…what did you see?"

Her answer wasn't the thing he had expected. "I saw the exact opposite of what you truly are, Zelgius. In your mind, I saw painful memories, sensed emotions and projections of hate and weakness. It all came from one source: your father. From what little I could see your father has always called you weak and treated you as nothing. I didn't see why, since I couldn't see past the wall you had already put up around your mind to keep me from looking in any further, but I could at least guess that your father was trying to mold you into something that was the same as him because of some secret he was hiding."

"You're telling me things I already know," Zelgius scoffed. "Speak plainly and with fewer words, Micaiah."

"All right," she said. "What I saw in particular was a struggle with identity. I think you know better than me that you've become what your father wanted you to be, so if I can help in some way, Zelgius, promise me this. Find a way to separate yourself from your father and live life the way _you_ want to live it, not how someone else has forced you to." She placed her hand on his chest. "And if you ask me, Zelgius, joining the army is your one chance to do just that. Whether it's by the strength of your sword arm or by the hand of someone else, I think that's the one way you can make it happen."

Zelgius blinked in disbelief. The very thought of such a thing shocked him. Admittedly, he had never even thought of that. In retrospect, how could he _not_ have thought about it? It was the first thing Micaiah had said that actually made sense to him and that didn't make him angry or annoyed. What if, only inadvertently, he had been living his life _completely_ at the whim of his father, while he pretended to believe that he had some chance to define his character by his hand? Granted, he was Erasmus' son and would be comparable to the man in more ways than one. Was Micaiah right? Was joining the army really his only shot at completely separating himself from his father to become his own man? Zelgius thought he suddenly felt fear, not in himself, but in his father. Besides the obvious reason of keeping his existence hidden, maybe Erasmus feared that if didn't keep Zelgius on a tight enough leash, he would become too strong, a threat even. All of it gave Zelgius even more reason to join the army in the first place.

Did Erasmus really care about what Zelgius turned out to be, or was the man lying and as he always had? Deep down, Zelgius knew that he had to assume the latter or perhaps there was even a little bit of both in there.

As intriguing as the thought was, Zelgius would have to think about it later. There was something more intriguing about the way Micaiah had said the words. "You know, Micaiah, for someone who looks to be not a day older than thirteen you sure talk like someone who is at least twice that age. It's very intriguing, actually. Care to explain?"

"I get around a lot," she answered surely, backing away. "I've been relatively alone since I was even younger than your sister and when you're alone and have no one to rely on but yourself, you have a lot of time to think. And when you have time to think, you have time to listen to everything else you hear other people talking about. Especially when you're a fortune teller like I am. You know things others obviously don't."

"That's not the answer I wanted," Zelgius answered firmly. "Now who is it that keeps avoiding answering questions?"

She seemed to enjoy the game of cat and mouse they were playing. "Really?" she asked. "I can always let this whole thing drop, if you want me to."

Zelgius looked away. "Please do."

Micaiah moved to where Zelgius could see her again. She seemed to glide rather than step. "But if I can, I'd like to ask you something else, something a little less personal."

"I don't know how it can get more personal than everything we've already talked about," Zelgius said, "but providing you don't ask about anything we've already discussed, go ahead."

"I know I'm not supposed to ask about your father again," she said.

Zelgius shook his head. "No."

"Or why you've been cooped up in the mines for the past five years."

"No."

"And frankly I'm too afraid to ask about the sword you said that you got from your father." She eyed the weapon on his back and a strange look passed across her face.

Zelgius shifted uncomfortably against the stone wall. He didn't like the way she was constantly diverting away from the topic she wanted to get to. "Then if it isn't any of that, what is it?"

"If you've wanted to join the army for so long," she said and her voice softened to a whisper, "why haven't you done it already? You told Captain Targus that your father doesn't publicly recognize you as his son, so if what Captain Targus said is true, Erasmus can't hold you down with that. Why wait until today?"

Admittedly, Zelgius hadn't been expecting that and couldn't even think of a suitable answer. "Well…"

"Zelgius!"

Micaiah's question went unanswered and the two of them turned to find Maria hurrying back down the road. Admittedly, Zelgius was glad for the interruption she brought since he figured Micaiah's "curiosity" would only persist as long as they were alone. Maria hurried up to them and handed them both steaming apple tarts that hopefully tasted as good as they smelled.

After a few moments, Maria looked up at him fondly. "So guess what, Zelgy?" she said cheerfully. "I found something fun that the two of us can do together!"

Zelgius took a bite of his apple tart. Until now he hadn't realized just how hungry he was and the sweet, tangy flavor of the apple filled dumpling made him appreciate the fact that he was even out here at all. It sure beat the week-old bread and mineral-ridden water he was served at the mines or the foul soup Erasmus gave him at home.

"And what's that?" he asked curiously.

Maria's face beamed. "Archery!"

Zelgius sputtered and nearly choked on his apple tart. He cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow. "Archery?" he asked, making sure he had heard her right. "Are you serious, Maria?"

"Yeah, it'll be fun!"

"I haven't shot a bow in over five years," Zelgius admitted, scratching the back of his head. "Not since I used to go hunting out in the Daein countryside with Igor. I was never even that great at it either. And I don't know if I could even keep the bow steady before firing. I would probably just end up making a fool of myself."

Maria wasn't buying it. "I think you're just looking for excuses not to go, Zelgy!"

"I'm not making excuses—"

"And that doesn't mean you've completely forgotten how to shoot, either," Micaiah added.

Zelgius turned on her. "Whose side are you on anyways?"

Micaiah tried to look innocent. "No one's."

"Yeah, right." Zelgius turned back to Maria and the girl looked positively angry for once. "All right, all right. I suppose I did make a promise to you, Maria," he said as he finished eating. "All right then, archery it is! Maria, lead the way!"

The archery range wasn't that far, nestled in between two alehouses and set up against the western wall of the street. It was fairly crowded and the range was about as popular as everything else around it. There was much of a line for the small range and most of the people crowded around it seemed more interested in watching rather than participating. There was a lone soldier there as well, dressed in the army recruiter's garb that Zelgius knew all too well, standing at one end of the range. It didn't take much to figure out that the recruiter was there to observe the ranges and decide whether there was anyone he wanted to recruit. He looked positively bored and had the look on his face that he would rather be somewhere else.

After passing over a handful of gold coins at the kiosk on one end of the range, the aid there handed Zelgius a bow and a quiver of two dozen arrows and sent him off downrange to the stall labeled as number seven. The "stall" was nothing more than a white square barely three feet in area, with the only things separating him from the range and the stalls next to him being wooden boards that didn't even come up to Zelgius' waist. Zelgius almost hit his head on the low overhang as he stepped in the tiny square and set his quiver down against the board in front of him. Clearly the range hadn't been designed with people his height in mind.

Zelgius bent down and withdrew an arrow and clumsily fumbled with it and the bow. He frowned. How was he supposed to do this again? He was so used to using weapons and tools that were wielded either single or two-handedly and not in two _separate_ hands. Swords and pickaxes had always felt so much more comfortable in his hands. He figured that he would hold the bow in his left hand and draw with his right, since he was right-handed. He tried and failed to remember something of what Igor had taught him long ago. Needless to say it didn't make much sense to him why anyone would rely so much on ranged attacks at all when it would be so much more effective to engage melee combat.

The aid at the kiosk clearly noticed his trouble and moved over to him. "Ever shoot a bow before, kid?" she asked.

Zelgius shook his head. "Not in a long while," he said as he dropped the bow again. "I've been mining for the past five years."

"It's pretty simple stuff," she said, "so long as you hold the bow right and aim downrange. Just nock the arrow into the middle of the bowstring and pull it back. Point it straight at the target and you should do fine."

"Like this?" Zelgius asked, finally managing to grasp the middle of the bow and holding it out in front of him.

"No, flip it over," the aid said, a no doubt pretentious smile on her face. "If you try firing it like that, you'll end up shooting yourself in the foot." She demonstrated and handed the bow back to him. "Rest the arrow on the bracket at the middle. And don't forget to wear the armguard otherwise you'll end up tearing all the skin off of your left arm."

Zelgius nodded as she walked off. "Got it. Thanks for the advice."

"Bet you I hit more targets than you do, Zelgy!" Maria called over from a few ranges down to the left.

"We'll see about that!" Zelgius shouted back as he clasped the arm guard onto his left forearm.

As it turned out, Zelgius didn't even have to pretend to do horribly just to let his sister beat him, sentimentality he fully accepted, and instead ended up making a fool out of himself anyways. Needless to say Zelgius didn't even care. He was actually having _fun_ for once and with a determined and easy-going smile on his face, not even the fact that he tried loading the arrow in backwards twice ruined his spirit in the slightest. His overly developed core muscles prevented him from pulling the bowstring back to his shoulder before he had to let the arrow fly at the target twenty yards downrange, or rather the target twenty yards down and three feet to his right. Not a single arrow even came close to his target and one or two even shot over the retaining wall behind the range. He looked down to the right at his sister, who was doing only marginally better than he was. But at least she was hitting her _own_ targets and not the ones two stalls over. It hadn't taken Zelgius five minutes to become an expert at hitting bulls-eyes on other people's targets.

His antics had drawn plenty of attention by the time Zelgius was halfway through his quiver and the people in the crowds laughed and joked. After a time it almost became a betting game as to whether or not Zelgius would hit his targets at all. Several of them even shouted that they would buy him a drink if ever managed to hit a bulls-eye (which he never did). Those next to Zelgius, however, merely grunted in annoyance, particularly the arrogant-looking man with ponytailed red hair to Zelgius' right.

"You know if you're not going to take his seriously," he snorted as he confidently pulled back his bowstring, "get your clumsy ass back to the mines where you're out of the way." The man fired off his last arrow and scored his fifth bull's-eye in a row. His arrows were jammed so close in the center of the target that the wood had cracked. The man smiled and puffed out his chest in pride.

"And if you're going to take it too seriously then go join the army instead of wasting your time at an open archery range," Zelgius answered calmly and let his final arrow fly. The crowd cheered in mock celebration as Zelgius managed to finally hit the target, only a few inches below the center. "Go and talk to that recruiting officer. I'm sure they could use you."

"Pfft, moreso than a dirty miner such as yourself," the man scoffed, resting his bow on his shoulder and signaling for the aid to bring him another quiver.

Zelgius shrugged and put his bow down. "Not as an archer, maybe. But there are other ways to excel in the army." He unclasped his armguard and turned to leave. "And there is something you should know, friend. Mining silver requires as much accuracy and sure handedness as shooting a bow does. More core strength is needed but perhaps you should keep that thought in mind the next time you try to berate someone else." Zelgius heard the man grunt as he left the range, whether it was in anger or annoyance Zelgius couldn't tell, and mutter something about "only fools rush in to attack an enemy at close range".

Zelgius leaned over to the soldier at the end of the range as he passed the man by. "I guess I can cross archery off my list, can't I?" he joked. The soldier smiled faintly and nodded.

Maria and Micaiah were waiting for him right where they had been before and the former both congratulated him and teased him about his performance, although she hadn't done _that_ much better. They both at least agreed that their talents lay somewhere outside archery range, as if it hadn't been clear enough before. Micaiah remained silent but judging by the contorted look on her face, she appeared to be holding back a laugh.

"What's your problem, Micaiah?" Zelgius asked her.

"Well, it's just…that was very…interesting…" If Micaiah was trying to hide the smile on her face, she wasn't doing a very good job at it.

Zelgius folded his arms. "What are you smiling about?"

She turned away sheepishly. "I'm n-not smiling," she said. The shaking of her shoulders betrayed the fact that she was putting all her energy into holding back a laugh.

"And now you're laughing at me!" Zelgius cried.

"I am _not_ laughing!" Micaiah insisted while still obviously trying to stifle a giggle.

"Yes you are! You _are_ laughing at me!"

Micaiah didn't even try to hide it anymore and burst out laughing, clearly near hysteria at watching Zelgius try his unsuccessful hand at archery. Zelgius couldn't say he really blamed her at all and while he might not have done the same in her place, it _had_ been a rather humorous experience when he thought about it.

Zelgius couldn't help but smile and was unsuccessful at forcing back a laugh himself. "Well fine then." He strapped on his sword and turned his gaze upward. The sun had dipped below its zenith by now and it was nearing mid-afternoon. "Captain Targus suggested that we make our way down to the duel arenas before mid-afternoon and if we're going to make it there before the duels start, we'd better start heading that way. Maria, what happened to Igor? I thought I saw him just before we started archery."

"I don't know," she said, looking around as they started back down the road again. "I thought I saw him talking to a group of men earlier, though. I think one of them was a Daein soldier, but it wasn't Captain Targus."

"We'll just have to find him later then. If anything, I'm sure we can meet up with him at the gatehouse."

It didn't take them long to reach the arena that Captain Targus had mentioned to them and based on his own understanding of its location, Zelgius knew at least that it lay on the threshold of levels two and three. Zelgius had never passed by the arena himself and was greeted with a strange sight upon reaching it. The arena had clearly seen better days in its long existence and while it was nearly as old as the city itself, no concentrated effort had even been made to keep it in pristine condition like the rest of the buildings around. Compared to the other buildings around it, the arena was massive and at least several hundred feet in diameter and just as high. Jagged cracks and fissures ran up and down the face of the circular structure and in more places than one entire chunks of rock had completely broken loose, leaving gaping holes throughout. Some of the loose rock still lay around the edges of arena. The foundation of the arena still looked to be quite strong and sturdy but it still puzzled Zelgius as to why no one had ever bothered to keep the building in decent shape. It was almost a blight on the rest of the city, despite its close proximity to the slums and shadier lower levels. Part of Zelgius figured that since the arena and its legacy were as old as Nevassa, perhaps no one had really desired to tamper with the "legacy" it held with the city. But that didn't give Zelgius any comfort at to the fact that any one part of the arena could tumble loose at any moment.

And _this_ is where Captain Targus had told him to go to watch the duels for today? Zelgius hoped that the man had a good reason for sending them here.

Zelgius turned to Micaiah as they reached the front entryway of the arena. She had stopped several feet behind him. "Micaiah? Aren't you coming?"

The girl looked hesitant to even get near the arena. "No, I think I'll just stay out here, thank you," she said. "These duel arenas aren't exactly in my taste so I think I'll just see if I can do a fortune telling or two while I wait for you to come back. I'll be right here when you get back." Micaiah hurried off and was lost into the crowds before Zelgius could even think to say something else.

"Well, that was cryptic," Zelgius said as he turned back to his sister. "Maria, you've been here before, right? When father took you to see the play a few months ago? Could you maybe pick out a decent spot for us to watch from?"

"Of course I can, brother!" Maria grabbed his hand and pulled him along through the gate. "There's a balcony that father and I always used on this side of the arena. We could probably squeeze in there."

Maria proved to know what she was doing and led Zelgius through the archway, up a spiral staircase to their left and out onto a balcony that jutted several feet out from the wall. They were able to squeeze in between a group of Daein soldiers on the left and a rather large, bearded man to the other side right up next to the wall of balcony. The vantage point was nothing less than spectacular and Zelgius could easily see three hundred and sixty degrees around. They were only about halfway up the eastern side of the wall and Zelgius had a full view of the bottom of the arena which was nothing more than a dirt and rock-strewn field that spanned all the way across the bottom of the arena. Several barred gates were built into the walls of arena where whatever challengers would be sent out to duel. Various pieces of broken and discarded weapons and armor also littered the battlefield, likely from previous duels that had taken place that day. And disgustingly enough there were even bleached white bones scattered across the field, likely partial remains of past gladiators that had met what Zelgius guessed to be a particularly gruesome fate. Again, it was all likely to maintain the arena's violent and historic past, if not give the citizens some idea of violent nature of the duels.

The only living thing that currently occupied the arena was a man that stood in perfect contrast to the rest of area around him. He stood rigid and still in the center of the field, his face hidden by a thick black hood. He kept his arms folded inside his cloak and never even turned his head to look up at the stands as several of the people acknowledged him with waves and points. Zelgius hadn't noticed him at first but he figured that the man had been there for quite some time upon the completion of whatever duels had taken place before him.

By now the stands had filled to the brim and in many spots there were people standing in crowded groups near the archways. The skies had become increasingly clouded and Zelgius felt a few fat raindrops splatter onto his face. He desperately hoped that the rain wouldn't disrupt the duels or get them called off altogether. The crowds had taken an interest in the man still standing in the center of the arena floor and the entire stadium grew relatively quiet as the last few dozen people filed into the stands. All attention turned to the man, who hadn't bothered to move at all. Zelgius heard the soldiers to his left make wagers as to whether the man would survive his encounter or how long it would even take him to defeat his opponent. Most of them wagered that the man wouldn't last even five minutes while at the same time boasting of their own superiority as warriors. They had clearly witnessed past duels and were overly confident that the challenge wouldn't last.

"You won't last more than a couple seconds, you damn fool!" one of them shouted. "Go back to the Guild and to being a disgusting mercenary where you belong!" Several people around him chuckled and a few others did the same.

Several more minutes passed and still nothing. Zelgius shifted uncomfortably as the stands turned from hushed whispers and arrogant taunts to absolute silence. Even the balcony where the arena's announcer was stationed had gone completely silent. Surely the announcer must know something of what was going on.

What was everyone waiting for?

Finally the man decided he had forced enough drama and that the time for anonymity was over. With one massive arm, he threw back his hood and tossed his thick cape aside onto the dusty and cracked floor of the arena.

The crowds gasped and cheered because there, standing tall and clad in a blue tunic and bright yellow cape, was the Divine Knight, the greatest swordsman to walk the face of Tellius, General Gawain himself!

Zelgius could barely contain his excitement as he felt his heart leap into his throat. He finally understood. _This_ is what Captain Targus had wanted him to see!

Zelgius had never before laid eyes on the general himself, only seen various artist renditions, but it had always been said that Gawain was likely the most well-built and muscular soldier in the entire Daein army. His face was tight and youthful in appearance and thick, slanted eyebrows rested above his eyes in perfect contrast to his short, wavy brown hair that parted on one side of his forehead. As it was apparent now, the general always favored his less than stellar attire as opposed to arming himself in bulky ebony armor as was traditional for nearly all soldiers regardless of rank.

But then again, General Gawain had never been seen as the most orthodox of men when it came to his army.

"At the personal request of His Majesty," the announcer finally pronounced from the far side of the arena, "General Gawain, Great Rider and the harbinger of our beloved and revered Black Knights, is here in the capital today to oversee the final festivities and ultimately the final army recruiting."

The announcer's voice became even more excited. "And not only is our esteemed general going to grace us with his presence during the day's festivities, he is going to no doubt give us a phenomenal display of his outstanding prowess with a sword for our last duel of the afternoon!" General Gawain gave a wave to the crowd and the people, Zelgius included, cheered uproariously. The noise echoing through the arena was deafening and the people had obviously decided that they were going to get well more than what they had bargained for here today.

The announcer's tone suddenly turned serious. "Now, I would like to remind you all that the duels today are not for the faint of heart. If any of you wish to leave, I suggest you do so now."

Zelgius turned to look at Maria, who was dangling her legs over the edge of the balcony. "Perhaps we should move on, Maria," he said. "Mother would not be pleased if she found out about this. Besides, this isn't the sort of thing little girls should be watching in the first place."

Maria shook her head stubbornly. "Nope! Sorry, Zelgy! Have you forgotten your promise, brother? You said that I could do whatever I wanted today and I want to watch the duels! And I know that _you_ don't want to miss a chance at seeing General Gawain fight!"

"But this isn't exactly what I had in mind for you—"

"But Zelgy, I want to stay!" She gave him the saddest, most pitiful look that Zelgius had ever seen. Her lower lip quivered and she blinked her eyes twice. Zelgius found himself quite enamored with the look. _She's more insightful than most, but's she just as stubborn as I am and really knows how to lay on a guilt trip._

Zelgius let out a sigh and conceded to her. "All right, all right," he sighed. "You can stay. But you know that I could never refuse you anything anyways."

Maria's face lit up. "Oh, thank you, Zelgy!" She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. "You're the best brother anyone could ever ask for!"

_Now she goes _too _far, _Zelgius thought darkly, but spoke nothing of it. Since she was the only in his family that had ever cared for him, what could the harm be in giving her what she wanted? Erasmus spoiled her more than enough, which was more than Zelgius could say about himself, but she was his little sister, after all. He could at least count his blessings for having one person who cared for him.

_Remember, she only cares about you because she doesn't know about what you are,_ the voice in the back of his head reminded him. _If you expose that to anyone, any chance at having someone to care for you will go up in a puff of smoke, no matter who it is._

But couldn't he just have this one thing? Ignorance was a form of bliss, was it not? Even if Maria _did_ know, it likely wouldn't matter. Zelgius had openly admitted to Maria about being different than other people in ways that he couldn't explain and that didn't seem to bother her at all. Maria seemed very tolerant for differences, whatever they may be, but that was likely because of her youth and naivety.

By now the duel had begun and Zelgius tore himself away from his dark thoughts and turned his eyes toward the dueling arena. General Gawain's opponent was a Tiger laguz, set loose from the barred gates on the eastern end of the arena. It was easily the same size as General Gawain and every bit as fearsome. The Tiger had already shifted into beast form and was growling menacingly as he stalked around Gawain in a wide circle. The general didn't seem the least bit flustered or concerned for his situation, standing stone still and seemingly disinterested in his opponent. In fact, he kept his enormous blade sheathed at his back and made no attempt to draw it and rested almost casually with his right hand on his hip.

But Zelgius, with his enhanced eyesight, could tell that General Gawain's eyes, however, never stopped moving.

Then the Tiger leapt at Gawain as he passed behind the Daein general, razor sharp claws extended for the purpose of rending Gawain's flesh from his bones. Zelgius wanted to cry out and warn him, but he managed to stifle a scream as he waited for the inevitable.

But the Tiger laguz never even managed to lay one scratch on Gawain and missed him entirely, its claws slicing only through empty air. One moment Gawain was there and then another moment he wasn't. The Tiger was in mid-leap when General Gawain simply disappeared. There was no other way to describe it. He moved so fast that even Zelgius' keen eyesight couldn't keep up with him. In less than a second he had moved from his original position to the very spot the Tiger had leapt from.

There was a flash of silver and crimson and the Tiger landed behind Gawain, who was bent to one knee with his right arm extended, sword in hand. The blade was dripping with blood and Zelgius turned his eyes to the Tiger to find that there was an enormous gash in the beast's abdomen and blood flowed freely from the wound. The crowd cheered and hollered at the prowess of their general, no doubt amazed that Gawain had moved so fast without suffering a single scratch.

Perplexed by the general's swordsmanship, Zelgius leaned forward over the wall, his eyes alight with pure fascination. Incredible! No ordinary man could have moved that fast!

Now in full combat mode, General Gawain refused to hold back and give ground as the Tiger relentlessly pounced and thrashed at him. The massive sword held in the general's right hand, called "Ettard" if Zelgius remembered correctly, was nothing more than a silver blur as Gawain fended off the Tiger's attacks. Whether it was using the flat end of the weapon as a shield to throw his enemy aside or striking out a precious few soft spots in the Tiger's thick and sinewy hide, General Gawain did it all flawlessly. He never faltered in his movements, stepping lightly and with incredible finesse, keeping his opponent on the move as the two of them circled each other. The general spun, ducked, rolled and dodged without ever breaking stride or lowering his defense, never suffering a single scratch. The arena was more than wide enough for him to maneuver and keep a safe distance between him and the Tiger at all times. General Gawain's blade and the Tiger's thick blue hide were slick with rainwater as they battled. Undistracted by the raging crowds and unfazed by the drenched ferocity of his battle, General Gawain withstood it all with the stoic pride he was so famed for. Already the duel had progressed for ten minutes (perhaps it had been more or even less but Zelgius was too enthralled to notice) and had turned into an instinct-fueled test of endurance, with neither combatant willing to give ground or, on Gawain's part, show any weakness at all. Despite the fact that they hadn't paid a single gold coin to observe the match, the people had gotten their money's worth in the form of time spent, which had definitely not been wasted.

As the Tiger made another pass in front of Gawain to the general's left, Gawain raised Ettard over his right shoulder and brought the blade down in a mighty two-handed slash, which the Tiger managed to avoid easily. It looked like a mistake on General Gawain's part as the Tiger used its momentum to pounce back in retaliation. But as the Tiger's jaws sought to tear his throat open, General Gawain did what any smart soldier would have done in his situation. He ducked. And as he ducked, his right hand relinquished his blade to his left hand and his right arm shot up to protect his face. The warding gesture didn't suffer the clampdown of the Tiger's jaws but instead found the Tiger's own throat instead. General Gawain's forearm connected solidly with the Tiger's throat just under the beast's chin as razor sharp teeth passed barely centimeters over the general's head.

But Gawain's arm didn't stop the attack and Zelgius could tell that had never been the intent of the ploy to begin with. No, its only purpose was to divert the Tiger's gaping maw away from Gawain's face. Now with his enemy's forward momentum fully under his control, General Gawain used the sole strength of his sword arm to throw the laguz over his head and onto the ground half a dozen feet behind him. The Tiger landed flatly on its back and flailed its limbs frantically in an attempt to get back to its feet.

General Gawain spun back around and Ettard returned to his right hand once more. The Tiger scrambled to its feet and it appeared that the battle would continue on the same manner as it had before.

As it turned out, the exact opposite would happen. The very moment he spun around to face the Tiger, Gawain seemed to draw his body inwardly, tightening and contracting his muscles. His feet were positioned strangely, with his right out in front of his body while his left stuck out behind him, angling his body so that his chest was turned nearly ninety degrees away from his opponent while his head still faced the Tiger. General Gawain raised Ettard to point it directly at his opponent, as if he was marking the laguz for death simply doing so. General Gawain bent his knees slightly and pulled his sword back to hold it behind him. Zelgius heard him shout something, a word Zelgius didn't recognize, and brought his sword sweeping back out in front of him. The Tiger clearly assumed that based on the position of Gawain's feet, the general clearly meant to close the gap between the two of him and took a few steps back. But to the astonishment of his opponent and the crowds, General Gawain did the last possible thing anyone there expected him to do.

He threw the sword into the air.

Zelgius almost felt the need to blink twice to ensure that he had seen that correctly, but didn't out of the fear that if he did, he would miss even the smallest fraction of what the general was going to do. General Gawain had tossed his mighty blade into the air so effortlessly that he may as well have been throwing a lighter weapon such as a hand axe. The general never missed a stride and the second his blade left his hand, he took one step forward with his left foot and launched himself into a forward flip that took him at least a foot and a half off of the ground. As he completed the flip, Gawain nimbly caught his downward spinning blade by its handle and brought the end of the blade crashing down on his stunned enemy's left shoulder blade. The blade cut straight through the Tiger's shoulder and without even the slightest pause in between, General Gawain swept the middle of the blade up across the laguz's chest. The force of the blow sent the Tiger flying back onto its back, blood spurting out from the gaping wound in its chest. Gawain used the force of his attack to finish his move by using his hands to back flip away from the Tiger. The general resumed his normal fighting stance and with his blade still held ready, he stood as if waiting or even daring his adversary to get back up.

"What was _that_?" Maria exclaimed and she leaned so far forwards that Zelgius feared she would topple over the side. She didn't and kept her arms wrapped around the stone.

Zelgius was equally fascinated as her, if not more. The attack had been so quick, so fluid that it looked as though no effort had been needed on Gawain's part to perform the stunt. "That," he breathed, suddenly out of breath. "I don't know, but it was unbelievable. I've never seen or heard of anything performing a move like that!"

The silence in the arena that followed was so eminent and so deafening that Zelgius would have thought the Goddess herself had appeared in the center of the arena. It was almost as mind numbing and distracting as the cheering had been only moments before. No one could at all believe what they had just witnessed. What they had seen was no doubt the finest display of swordsmanship that any of them had ever seen, something very few of them had ever laid eyes on before.

The laguz, now fully exhausted and reduced to a bloody mess, sagged to the ground in remission, reverting to human form once again. The steady heaving of its chest told Zelgius that it was still alive, if just barely. Zelgius couldn't help but feel a sense of respect, if anything, for the laguz in its effort to stand against General Gawain. Zelgius and the rest of the crowd now erupted in a frenzy of shouts and standing ovations for their Divine Knight, commending and praising him like a god for such an incredible performance.

General Gawain's sword was still held at waist height, still dripping with the laguz's blood, but instead of finishing off his opponent, Gawain turned his back, stepped away and bent down to retrieve his fallen cloak. He wiped his sword clean on his cloak before sheathing the blade. He made for the eastern exit of the arena grounds, never once turning to face his defeated his adversary as he passed him by nor to cast an arrogant wave at the roaring masses above and around him. He knew his fight was finished and clearly saw no need to continue needless bloodshed.

His decision met with mixed criticism among the crowd as their cheers quickly faded. Most of the new shouts demanded that he finish off the worthless sub-human's life. They called for blood, slaughter and other abhorrent suggestions that Zelgius would sooner just forget. The bearded, heavyset man standing next to Zelgius was far more vocal than the others.

"FINISH 'IM OFF, YA BLOODY COWARD!" He waved his mug of ale disapprovingly and the foamy liquid spilled over his hands. "THEM SUB-HUMANS DON'T DESERVE NO MERCY! BLEED 'IM LIKE A STUCK PIG AND SEND 'IM TO DA GATES 'O HELL, YA SPINELESS TOADY!"

Zelgius knew it wouldn't do him any good to butt heads with a drunk, but he wasn't going to brook any insult to his general. He tapped the other man lightly on the arm. "He isn't a coward," he said calmly. "It's very honorable not to kill an opponent who can't even muster up the energy to attack back."

"Huh?" The drunk turned to face him. "Was 'et you who said dat? Whaddya you know 'bout honor, boy? Them sub-humans don't deserve no rushpect from no one! Them there slaves are 'ere to rushpect us!" He tried to emphasize his point by pointing down at the laguz and then back at himself. "If'n they can't learn to do that, they shou' be killed!" He took another long gulp from his mug, draining it dry. "Tha's another thing. Any fool that lowers 'is blade in combat don't deserve to live, 'specially them sub-humans."

Zelgius actually found the man quite amusing. He folded his arms across his chest and smiled, lowering his chin to his chest. The drunk clearly lacked any form of intelligence whatsoever. "So, what you're saying is that even if it was a human soldier fighting instead of a lag—er, sub-human, he wouldn't deserve to live and accept mercy?"

"Well…"

"And that knowing this you'd really condemn the general's honor and integrity just because he failed to kill a sub-human?" Zelgius raised his head and shrugged. "Sounds to me like you don't care if it's a human or a sub-human. You just want justice to be dealt out."

The drunk scratched his head. "Well, uh, I suppose not…argh!" He slammed his mug down on the balcony wall. "Ye haven't been listenin', boy! Dem sub-humans don't deserve live at all! Tha's all I was tryin' ta say! Don't go complicatin' things wif your ridiklus ideas 'an such." He waved his arm. "Now, gerrout of my face 'fore I pop ya upside the head with this here mug."

Zelgius raised his hand in a warding gesture, serious once more. "No need for that," he said. "I can see there's no point arguing with a blathering drunkard such as you, so I will be going." He lifted Maria from the balcony wall placed her on the ground. "Come on, Maria. We should be going." They were off the balcony and down the stairs before the drunk could even think to press his insults and yammering even more.

As promised, Micaiah was waiting for the two of them outside the archway where they had left her an hour ago. "Well, was it worth delaying for another hour?" she asked, falling into step with them as Zelgius and Maria continued on down the main street.

"I've never seen a more fantastic display of swordsmanship in my entire life," Zelgius answered, his thoughts still on the duel. "General Gawain himself was there!" He made no attempt to hide his enthusiasm and glanced around him, vainly hoping that the general would pass down the street. "It makes me feel humbled and even more honored than before that I'll have the chance to even be in the same army as him."

"Maybe even glad that he's not an enemy!" Maria added.

Zelgius nodded. "That too. I'll have to thank Captain Targus later for pointing me in that direction. But I think we'd better head on down to the gatehouse and find General Tauroneo. If we hurry, I can maybe even hurry back up to the house and gather a few supplies for I leave for the barracks."

There was a commotion further down the street and the trio was stopped by a large group of people congregating near the entrance to one of the local pubs. By the looks of things and from Zelgius could see and hear himself, two drunks were currently caught in a brawl in the center of the road, successfully drawing in a large crowd to their antics. One of the brawlers' dress gave him away as a Daein officer and the other appeared to be nothing more than a local citizen. Both appeared to be drunk, of course, and were more focused on beating each other to a pulp than paying attention to the crowd that had gathered around them. The soldier looked somewhat familiar. As it was, the direct path to the gatehouse was blocked. Zelgius sighed. Where was Captain Targus when you needed him?

_Strange,_ Zelgius thought suddenly. Only a moment ago the way had been clear and free, unobstructed and there had been no apparent noise or disruption coming from the pub. That said, the road wouldn't be cleared for a while and Zelgius wanted to get down to the gatehouse as quickly as possible. He looked around before spotting an alleyway that led off to the west on down the hill. "Here," he said, directing the two girls to the left, "we can go this way without having to wait for the crowds to clear." The alleyway was relatively wide for the most part and they were easily able to slip through the crowds and pass into it. It was largely empty and barren, save for a few puddles of rainwater and an unmanned fruit cart set up against the right wall. They noticed and met by no one as the continued on, Zelgius' mind focused solely on one thing as he hurried forward.

And then, halfway down the alley, Micaiah collapsed.

Zelgius was barely able to catch her by the arm before she hit the ground. "Micaiah? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Don't…don't go this way," she whispered in a voice that was barely audible. She was panting heavily and struggled to breathe, as if the strength had suddenly been sapped from her body. "Stay…stay on the main road!"

Zelgius pulled her back to her feet. "What are you talking about? We can't go back that way. You saw what was going on back there." He started to pull her on forward as Maria followed closely behind. "The streets won't be cleared for a while. We can always get around to the gatehouse this way and I want to make sure I'm there before General Tauroneo goes back to the barracks and—"

"No!" Micaiah hissed, struggling to break free of his grip. Her eyes looked frantic and panicked. They were halfway down the alleyway by now. The path made an abrupt right turn a dozen feet in front of them. "Go back, quickly! This way…danger…"

Zelgius felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle in warning but he didn't think to reach for Mol'urhool. "Danger? What do you mean—?"

He was interrupted as Maria screamed and the pounding of footsteps on the stone ground sounded out behind them. Before Zelgius could react, a thick, sinewy arm wrapped around his throat and held him tight as a group of four armed men rushed past him. Two of them seized Micaiah and the others caught Maria before she could get too far away. Zelgius was powerless to interfere as the point of a knife pressed up against his back.

Zelgius felt his blood turn to ice as a cold, callous voice whispered into his ear. "Well, cousin, it looks you're a little lost, hmm?"


	6. V: Winter Festival 2: Fate Decided

_**Dark Destiny**_

**Part One: By the General's Hand**

_V: Winter Festival 2: Fate Decided_

Zelgius felt the knife blade press closer to his back. "Don't move, Zelgius," Rackson hissed. "One twitch and you get to meet the Goddess early. Of course, after you've kissed these two other girls goodbye and watched them suffer. But as long as you comply and do exactly as I say, I promise not to harm them or you."

Zelgius let his shoulders drop and inwardly cursed himself. In his foolish impatience to find General Tauroneo, had walked straight into the trap set by Rackson and as he now understood it, the brawl had been his cousin's doing as well. It stung worse to know that Captain Targus had failed to keep a proper eye out for Rackson as he had promised. Zelgius couldn't completely blame the aging army captain entirely since there were other duties the man no doubt had to attend to.

Zelgius quickly counted the number of them there. He could only see them out of the corner of his eye. Two, three, four plus Rackson…too many for him to handle on his own, even if he managed to get free at all. Only three of them were visibly armed; Rackson and the two largest men carried short swords and save for Rackson, they all had the look of mercenaries to them. Rackson looked strangely out of place in company of these men and Zelgius had to assume that Rackson had hired them solely for one job.

Upon feeling Zelgius' body sag, Rackson smiled. "Wise move, cousin." He released Zelgius from the chokehold and slammed him hard against the stone wall to his right, grabbing Zelgius' sword and throwing it to the ground. He kept his right arm pressed against Zelgius' collarbone and his leg against Zelgius' thigh. "Two of you, keep an eye on the streets," he said, motioning to two of the other men. "The others, keep hold of those two girls; I don't want them wandering off."

Zelgius struggled again. "Damn it, Rackson! Let the two of them go! This is between you and me. It has nothing to do with them!"

"Oh, I've no interest in your sister, cousin," Rackson said. "We'll let her go after we're done with you. Maybe. The other one, however…" The lustful look in his eyes as his gaze moved to Micaiah sent chills down Zelgius' spine.

A cruel smile unfurled on Rackson's rough face. "Well, even if she is a bit young we could probably find a good use for her."

Zelgius fought even harder to break free. "You bastard!"

"Now, now, cousin, this isn't the time for such words!" Rackson removed his helmet and tossed it aside. His knife disappeared. "Needless to say I'm going to enjoy this as much as I can. I can't just let our little scuffle back there in the mines go completely unrequited, now can I? You know better than anyone else that I enjoy holding grudges."

Zelgius gritted his teeth. "Then there's no honor in you as a soldier if you think to launch a cowardly surprise attack like this."

For that Zelgius earned three swift punches to the gut. "You're pretty arrogant, you know that, cousin?" Rackson taunted as Zelgius lurched forward. "And you're _too_ honorable, as a matter of fact. If you were a soldier, you probably would have learned that already. You can't always fight with 'honor' and hope that your enemy will do the same. There are alternative ways to killing a man, after all."

"Glad to see that you've been listening to Captain Targus then," Zelgius mocked.

Rackson ignored his sarcasm. "I can't believe _you_ even believe a word than worthless old man even says, Zelgius. Haven't you learned by now that fool's all dried up and not good for anything, even keeping his word?"

"I simply thought that he would have taken care of you by now," Zelgius said quietly. "He said he would…"

"Who, Targus?" Rackson laughed as he realized what Zelgius was saying. "You asked Targus to look out for me today, cousin? Ha! That old fool's blinder than a bat these days. And even if he had eyes as good as you, cousin, he wouldn't know what to do with them. He couldn't dodge an arrow if he saw it coming from a mile away!"

"Stop…stop wasting my time, Rackson." Zelgius' chest was heaving heavily as he gasped for air. "You…you mentioned that you wouldn't do me or them harm if I complied with you," he breathed. "What did you mean by that? Or were you just lying as always?"

Rackson loosened his grip slightly so that Zelgius could breathe more easily. "Ah, yes. Like I said, cousin, there one thing you can do for me that may get you out of here in one piece. Don't worry; I'm a man who keeps his promises."

"Name…Name your price," Zelgius wheezed.

Rackson's face turned serious. "You laugh at me and swear by the Goddess I'll kill you right now."

Zelgius wouldn't take that risk. "All right. What do you want then?"

Rackson frowned. "You know that thing you do, how you fought me back in the mines a couple of days ago? You knew exactly what I was going to do when I attacked you and I realized something the other day when I thought about it some more, I realized that you can know exactly where everything is without even trying. You can see things almost before they happen and I know for a fact that's not something they teach us in the army."

Rackson jabbed him with one finger. "Therefore, cousin, I would like _you_ to teach me how you do that, so that I can become even more powerful than I already am."

If his stomach didn't hurt so much, Zelgius would have laughed. The words caught him completely by surprise. "That's…preposterous," he gasped. "You can't really be serious!"

Rackson silenced him with another blow to the gut. "You really think I'm kidding, maggot? Do you honestly think that I haven't noticed something 'special' about what you do? I know you've got some kind of trick to how you can appear to move that fast, especially when you don't have any proper military training like I do. Even with your filthy sub-human roots, you must have some kind of secret to it."

Zelgius coughed. "You're absolutely ridiculous. That kind of thing…can't just be taught. It's something I was born with. You know that. You can't make your body move faster and be stronger than what's physically possible for you. You're a fool, Rackson."

"No, I'm not. You're just not seeing the whole picture, cousin." Rackson's green eyes locked with his. "I want, no _need_, to learn how to do that so that I can finally prove to the rest of those whelps in the army that I'm truly worthy of being a general," Rackson professed. "Once you've done that for me, Zelgius, I'll challenge General Gawain to a duel and finally prove to him that I'm more worthy to hold his place as a Rider!" Rackson cackled maniacally as he said the words and Zelgius could see his cousin's body shudder with satisfaction. "Then he can have _my_ place in the Knights and become _my_ subordinate! People may still respect him as a man but no longer will they see him as an unbeatable swordsman!"

Zelgius seethed at the thought of Rackson attempting such an outrageous thing. The very thought of having something like Rackson in charge of anybody's life and sending them to fight and die in his name made him sick.

"And then you know what I'll do next, Zelgius?" Rackson whispered as he bent close.

Zelgius felt his muscles tense up as he waited for his chance. He barely caught a strange look from Micaiah. "What?"

Rackson smiled and while he kept his arm pressed against Zelgius' collarbone, he moved the rest of his body back a few inches. "I may even take you as my apprentice and train you to be more like me, to become the greatest swordsman in all of Daein. You'll come to admire and respect me to the point that you'll call me 'Master'. How's that sound, cousin?"

Zelgius furrowed his brow and tightened his fists. "I would rather rot in hell than become any pupil of yours."

Everything happened at once and in less than a second's time, the entire alleyway erupted in a violent storm of flurry and chaos. Rackson had already made the mistake of loosening his hold on Zelgius and removing the pressure of his leg against Zelgius' thigh to give Zelgius an opening, but it was Micaiah that set the entire thing off. One moment she was held fast by one of the mercenaries and then the next her right arm was free of the man's grip and raised high into the air. A bright flash of light exploded from her outwardly stretched palm that engulfed the entire alleyway. Rackson and the mercenaries covered their eyes and cried in astonishment. In the chaos, both Maria and Micaiah managed to get completely free and dart away towards the streets. Zelgius was fortunate enough to have had his eyes closed and before Rackson could recover, he freed his leg and kneed Rackson squarely in the groin. Balling his fists as Rackson fell back, Zelgius hammered down on his cousin's face twice in rapid succession, once in the nose and the next hit in the jaw. The second hit sent Rackson to ground face first and he fell directly into a pool of water gathered against the wall.

Rackson quickly scrambled to his feet and backed away, face contorted with rage as he wiped the blood and water from his nose and mouth, gathering the rest of his gang around him. He didn't seem to care that Micaiah and Maria had managed to get away at all; his only concern now was Zelgius. Zelgius assumed a fighter's stance and spread his legs, fists held protectively in front of his face.

They came at him, rushing him all at once, Rackson in the lead. They had numbers and months, if not years in Rackson's case, of hand-to-hand combat training on their sides; Zelgius had strength, size and at the very least, endurance he had won from slaving away in the mines for five years, not to mention his swift and unpredictable intuition that had served him so well in the past.

His heightened senses forced him to react instantly and Zelgius ducked away to the right as Rackson struck first, his vicious uppercut swinging by his head and Zelgius pushed Rackson's arm away with his left hand. Keeping his weight pressed down on his right leg, Zelgius struck out with his right arm and delivered a solid blow to Rackson's exposed gut. Rackson grunted and heaved forward nearly on top of Zelgius. Zelgius leaned forward and threw Rackson over his back onto the fruit cart set up against the far wall. The wood buckled and snapped under Rackson's bulk as assorted fruits tumbled out onto the alley floor.

Zelgius braced against the next attack but didn't have time to make a dive for his sword that lay only a few feet away. Using all of the strength he could muster, Zelgius counter-rushed them all, diving headlong into the fray and meeting their next charge head on. Punches and kicks were thrown without any thought given to target or strategy: the brawl was an all-out brawl now. Each blow Zelgius managed to land was greeted with a loud grunt of pain and a brief fallback from his target, but his satisfaction was short-lived at the pummeling his own body was getting.

It mattered little if he even managed to block any one of the blows that came his way; there was simply no possible way that he could have blocked them all. Zelgius reacted solely on instinct, as his aches and pains were washed away by the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

But his strength was failing rapidly. How much more of this could he possibly take?

Then suddenly he saw something as a flash of silver passed into the largest mercenary's hand. One of the men had pulled a knife. The knife plunged in at Zelgius from the left and Zelgius seized the mercenary's arm and tried to twist the weapon back against his attacker, but the mercenary had been expecting that. As Zelgius thrust the knife back towards the man's stomach, the mercenary stepped to his right and completely overpowered Zelgius and freed his arm instantly. Without so much as a second's pause, the knife flashed down and slashed through Zelgius' left thigh, slicing a gash that cut all the through to the bone.

Zelgius cried out in anguish and stumbled forward as he felt the knife strike again, this time plunging deep into his left shoulder. Zelgius sank to his knees and felt tears of pain well up in his eyes as the blood ran freely down his back and leg.

The mercenary withdrew the knife from Zelgius' shoulder and pulled Zelgius to his feet. He trapped Zelgius in a chokehold, his right arm wrapped tightly around Zelgius' throat. Zelgius gasped and grappled uselessly at his throat but the mercenary's grip was strong and would not relinquish his hold. Zelgius felt his face tighten and through his blurred vision he saw Rackson draw his sword up and wield it in both hands.

"I've had enough of this, cousin!" Rackson cried. "I think I'll just finish you here and get this over with!"

Zelgius waited for the blade to plunge into his stomach, but the attack never came. Instead, he suddenly felt the mercenary that held him in the death grip grunt and loosen his hold on him. There was a violently snapping sound and his bulky weight fell away. A body thudded to the hard stone behind him. Zelgius collapsed to his knees again, gasping for air. He was surprised when Rackson made no motion to attack him again. Instead Rackson backed away from Zelgius, his panicked eyes fixed on something behind Zelgius.

Zelgius' mind raced. There was someone else there. _Who…?_

Then a booming voice rang out from behind him. "Rackson, you disgraceful ingrate. Get you and your pathetic cronies out of here before I snap each one of your worthless necks." The voice was strong and firm and judging by the look on Rackson's face, someone fierce and familiar. "All of you had better do as I say or you're going to be more than sorry."

But Zelgius' attackers were a stubborn bunch and weren't going to let one man intimidate him, despite his enormous size as Zelgius could now tell. The man never drew the sword strapped across his back and instead dodged the attacks thrown his way as three of the mercenaries around him closed in, using only his fists and forearms to redirect any blows that came his way. The mercenaries never even managed to land one blow on him and every single one of their attacks was batted away almost effortlessly. Through the dust and haze Zelgius couldn't see the man's face, but there was something strangely familiar about him and the way he moved…

Rackson was screaming, yelling at the other men to back off and leave their new opponent alone. Zelgius noticed that while the other mercenaries advanced on their new prey, Rackson never raised his blade to the man or made any notion to approach him at all. There was the unmistakable tone of fear in his voice and yet for all of his warnings, the rest of the mercenaries were too stubborn and mule-headed to give up their fight.

One of the mercenaries, likely the one whom the man had pulled away from Zelgius, had managed to position himself behind the cloaked man and was just as tall if not even taller than Zelgius' rescuer. He was easily able to wrap his right arm around the man's neck in the same fashion he and Rackson had done to Zelgius earlier, trying to squeeze tight.

But a split second before the mercenary could tighten his grip, the cloaked man seized and pulled the mercenary's arm out with both hands, twisting it so that the elbow was pressed against his shoulder. Bending forward slightly, he yanked down violently and the bones in the mercenary's arm snapped in two. The mercenary let out a blood curdling scream and his arm went completely limp. The bone was obviously broken, but still the mercenary and his ally still persisted in their seemingly fruitless endeavor. He pulled his knife back out and one of his companions did the same as the third drew his own sword, launching a fresh assault.

But Zelgius couldn't just lie there and watch as this man fought in his defense. He had his own battle to fight and wasn't just going to lie there like a lump. Even with the appearance of Zelgius' mysterious rescuer, Rackson wasn't ready to give up just yet; the cloaked man couldn't possibly hold off all of them and protect Zelgius at the same time and Rackson knew this. While the two other mercenaries fought desperately against their new opponent, the largest of them, and no doubt the smartest, came for Zelgius, along with Rackson. His head still in a daze and lights dancing in front of eyes, Zelgius clambered to his feet and steeled himself against Rackson's next assault.

Instead of foolishly engaging Rackson directly and going barehanded against an armed soldier, Zelgius dove down to his right towards the destroyed fruit cart and instead of grabbing his sword that lay there, he seized an apple. Zelgius turned and hurled it straight at Rackson's face. His aim proved true as the fruit struck Rackson directly in the eye. The brief distraction was just enough for Zelgius to finally put the battle on equal terms.

Zelgius' hands finally found his sword and his hands wrapped around the hilt as he pulled it from its sheath. It felt strangely familiar to him, which was incredible because he hadn't used the blade in over five years. But something about the grip just felt _right_ to him and Zelgius spun around to block the next blow from Rackson's sword. The feeling was exhilarating and it felt to Zelgius as though he had known how to wield a blade for his entire life. The subtle nudging in his head now came in full force, much stronger than before, and suddenly his conscious was clearer than ever. The brand on his back burned with white hot passion and the anger inside of him was unleashed. The laguz blood and the power that came with it flared to life and engulfed all of his senses. The pain in his leg and shoulder were gone. But this was different than before, so much different in a way Zelgius couldn't even explain. All Zelgius knew was that he was _angry_, angrier than he had even been in his entire life.

Against such speed and the terrible ferocity he had unknowingly unleashed, Rackson didn't even have the chance to block Zelgius's counterattack or get completely out of the way as he ran for the low wall at the end of alleyway. He only managed to leap to the right, back flipping the fruit cart behind him. But even with all of his training as a soldier, he was too slow to completely dodge the slash. The attack grazed his left leg as he leapt through the air. Rackson landed hard and crumpled onto the weight of his injured leg. But Zelgius did not strike out at him again and instead turned to the larger man who now came at him. This man was much quicker than Rackson despite his size and clearly didn't exactly have the look of a soldier to him; Zelgius hadn't gotten a good look at him before, but he was dressed more like one of the sellswords the Mercenary Guild employed: tight-fitting green tunic, hard eyes filled with bloodlust, scarred face. His movements were incredibly fluid and his blade came at Zelgius from every angle possible, the strikes nothing more than blurs.

Zelgius was already lost in the power and moved his own blade in movements swift enough to block the man's attacks. It was as if he had always known how to do it all along, that the techniques had always been inside him. Nothing he had managed to pull off at Riven Bridge five years ago could even compare to this; that had all been luck. This time all that had been needed to unleash his skills was a battle to keep his life. As the man attacked from the left, Zelgius switched to using his left hand and bringing the blade down to block the strike. Sensing danger from behind, Zelgius swiftly kicked the mercenary back and pivoted around to block a desperate executioner's blow from Rackson. The intuition had saved him yet again.

Zelgius retaliated by backhanding Rackson and kicking him squarely in the chest. His cousin fell away, sprawling out onto his back and dropping his sword. Zelgius had half a mind to finish him then and there, retribution for all of those years Rackson had bullied him and treated him worse than the laguz slaves in his household, but some small amount of sanity stayed his hand. That, or the fact his conscious knew he still had one last enemy to take care of.

Zelgius crouched low as the large mercenary's blade passed over his head and swept out hard with his right leg, taking the mercenary's feet out from under him. Too possessed by his rage and desire to survive, Zelgius rose from his crouch and twirled around, swinging his blade out to the right before slicing it upwards in a vicious uppercut.

Too late Zelgius realized what he was doing. He meant to stop, would have it he wasn't so drunk with the rage that possessed him. Time appeared to slow and Zelgius was only aware of the few things that mattered: the blade in his hand; the mercenary's body flying through the air; the looks of shock and disbelief on the faces of Rackson and likely the face of the man who had come to his rescue. The sword blade came up and sliced across the mercenary's chest with such force that it threw him higher into the air. Blood sprayed from gash in his torso as he was thrown slightly behind Zelgius. The next set of movements came automatically and surprisingly naturally to Zelgius as he spun around and raised the blade for a final time, this time high above his head. Before the mercenary's body could strike the ground, Zelgius swung blade down this time in a heavy, two handed swing. The sickening sounds of skin and muscle ripping open filled his ears as the serrated edge of the blade tore through the mercenary's stomach and lower rib cage. The mercenary was dead the second he hit the ground, his life extinguished as quickly as snuffing out a candle.

Upon realizing the lethality his actions, the blade slipped from Zelgius' nerveless fingers and the hilt clattered to the ground. The sight of the man's gutted and bleeding body left him frozen as suddenly his anger and completely disappeared, drawing back into his body as he regained his sanity.

Zelgius looked down at his hands, then at the dead mercenary, then back at his hands. He felt his heart skip a beat. They were both covered in blood, so much blood.

_What have I done?_

He suddenly felt sick to his stomach, mortified at the bloody scene before him. His blade was still partially imbedded in the mercenary's gut and the sight made him want to hurl on the spot. It wasn't so much the visual aspect of the mercenary as it was the sick and twisted _feeling_ Zelgius got in his stomach as the reality of the situation sunk in. Zelgius had never killed a man and while he had often wondered what it was like, he never would have imagined that it would feel this _horrible_, this gut-wrenching sensation that made him want to hurl on the spot.

Zelgius dropped to his knees and put his hands over his face in an attempt to keep himself from looking at the sight before him. It didn't matter; it was already burned into his mind and no matter how hard he tried to expel it, it was still there. Suddenly Zelgius didn't care whether or not he even finished the fight or even tried to stop Rackson or the other mercenaries from attacking him.

It wouldn't matter. By now the cloaked man behind him had drawn his sword and just even the sight of that was convincing enough for the remainder of the mercenaries to flee in white-faced terror. Not that it would have been necessary after witnessing Zelgius' act of relentless brutality. They scrambled to get free of the man's incredible reach and tenderly cradling their broken and nearly shattered limbs, ran or hobbled from the alley like a bunch of frightened bilge rats and screaming bloody murder. Rackson had already fled back down the alleyway in the opposite direction, not even bothering to turn back for his blade or to confront Zelgius' rescuer for one final stand.

But whether his rescuer would pursue them or not, Zelgius wouldn't know and he sagged down onto his back. A heavy sleepiness overtook him and his eyes rolled back into his head. The shock of it all was too much for him. He couldn't even break his fall as his face hit the stone ground.

There was a strong, masculine voice in his ear and then there was only blackness.

-X-

"Come on, boy. Wake up. This is no time to be lying around."

Zelgius stirred as something slapped him lightly on his cheek and his eyes fluttered open to the clouded Nevassa skies. There was the pitter-patter of rain on his face and found he was still lying in the middle of the alleyway. His back and the entire left side of his body hurt terribly. How long had he been out? The last thing he remembered was that voice speaking into his ear…

Zelgius could barely lift his chin but as he turned his head to the right he spotted a man kneeling over him, the very same man that had come to his aid. He was cloaked and still had his hood up, with his head turned slightly away from Zelgius down the alley in the direction which Rackson had fled.

_Captain Targus?_ Zelgius thought at first but quickly discarded the thought. No, this man was far too big, too muscular and would have made Targus look downright puny. He was closer to Erasmus' size, in both build and stature. The absurd thought that it was his father even briefly crossed Zelgius' mind. There was definitely something familiar about the man's form and more importantly that enormous _sword_ that was still unsheathed in his right hand. That blade…he had seen it somewhere before and the man had even called Rackson out by name…

Then the man put down his sword and threw back his hood to reveal his face to be that of the last person Zelgius ever expected to see here or anywhere else.

Zelgius felt his jaw drop in astonishment. It wasn't Captain Targus or any other common soldier in the Daein army. Zelgius wouldn't have been more surprised if it had indeed been his father or even King Garen himself.

The man, who had so selflessly come to his aid, was General Gawain.

Zelgius blinked twice to ensure that he wasn't seeing an illusion. "General? General Gawain?" The words nearly caught in his throat and Zelgius couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. General Gawain looked far younger than he had originally supposed and while Zelgius only appeared to be not a day older than eighteen, General Gawain likely only had a few years on Zelgius' true age. "By the Goddess, am I glad to see you!"

General Gawain's face was stern and tight as he turned to face Zelgius. "The slums of Nevassa are not to be entered so foolishly," he said.

"But…but…you're really him…" Zelgius could barely find his voice. "The Divine Knight, the strongest and youngest of the King's Riders and the only man to rise from common birth to a Rider—"

"You can stop with the needless flattery, boy," Gawain cut him off. "I don't have any use for it, after all." Before Zelgius could say anything more, he bent down and carefully pulled him up into a sitting position against the wall. Zelgius tried to stand, but the general pushed him back down. "Easy there, boy. You took quite a beating there. I already wrapped up the gash in your left leg but you're plenty bruised up and your left shoulder is still in bad shape. Fighting with a wound like that proves that you've got more guts than brains. You're lucky to still be in one piece, I'll have to say."

"Thanks…to you of course, General."

"Don't mention it, boy," Gawain said, rising to his feet. He retrieved his blade and sheathed it. "But if you must know why I'm here, here's the story. After my duel, I was called to deal with that disturbance back there at the pub. Before I could do anything, suddenly this girl with bizarre silver hair caught me and told about what was going on back here. Not exactly the kind of thing for someone like me to get involved in, but the girl's insistence and a subtle nudging in my head told me that I should probably do something about it myself." He winked. "Even though it looked like you had things mostly covered there, boy."

Zelgius felt relief flood through him. So _that's_ where Micaiah had gone after Zelgius had gotten into a five-on-one brawl. It did him good to know that Micaiah had at least escaped safely and had found General Gawain, of all people, to come and assist him. But his relief was short-lived as he realized that his sister was missing but hopefully she had managed to escape just the same.

But even with that cleared, Zelgius was still having trouble grasping the reality of the fact he was talking with General Gawain and his heart was racing furiously. Was such a thing even chance? "But…but if you really thought that I would be fine, then why did you even bother to come and assist me, General?"

"Well, while you were busy gutting that mercenary like a pig, I took care of the other two before they could do the same to you." He snorted. "They ran before I could even give them a proper thrashing. Stubborn and despicable bunch, mercenaries and bounty hunters. They would have sooner stabbed you in the back than finish the fight honorably."

General Gawain's mention of the mercenary made Zelgius snap his head to the right. The dead mercenary's body was still sprawled across the alley, lying face down in a pool of his own blood. The sight left Zelgius transfixed and nothing short of a feeling of absolute horror. Chills went up and down his spine and he felt sick to his stomach again. He still couldn't believe it. Had he _really_ done that, so lost in his anger and overwhelmed by his power and desire to stay alive? He hadn't even tried to stop himself, to not bring his blade down in that last terrible and fatal strike.

And he had done so right in front of General Gawain. Zelgius couldn't fathom as to whether that would be good or bad, being as there was only one person in all of Daein that held more lawful authority than him.

"I have to say, boy, I am very impressed with the way you fight," Gawain said, unknowingly answering Zelgius' silent question. "I can tell you're clearly accustomed to the basics of swordplay, at least. Your form is rough and awkward, yet strong. And if you're going to be hanging around places like this, someone ought to teach you how to get yourself out of a chokehold. But are you a mercenary of sorts or do you just practice fighting for personal gain? Or perhaps self-defense?"

"I-I killed a man," Zelgius stammered, unable to tear his eyes away from the mercenary's gutted form. He still couldn't believe that he had let his rage get the best of him. Again. "How in the goddess' name is _that_ impressive?"

"Just answer the question, boy. You've actually piqued my interest."

Now _that_ caught Zelgius even more off guard than being rescued by General Gawain. If that hadn't been enough, now the General was inquiring how Zelgius knew how to fight? A stranger, a young man fighting against five other men in some back alley? Did General Gawain truly know talent when he saw it, as it was said he did? To be truthful, Zelgius had no idea how to answer the question without lying or forcing a half-truth. Telling anybody about his brand was inconceivable. There was always the fiasco that had taken place back in Crimea five years prior, but Zelgius wasn't about to tell General Gawain that either.

"Inheritance, I suppose," he said finally, choosing his words slowly and carefully. "Both my father and grandfather were quite accomplished in the army decades ago." He paused. "But with all due respect, General, I don't see myself as that accomplished of a swordsman." Zelgius never thought for a second that it was his skill with a weapon that had save him, only the power of his laguz blood.

"We'll just have to see about that," Gawain said. "Have you got a name, boy?"

Zelgius swallowed. He knew better than to lie about that at least. "Zelgius, sir."

"Zelgius? That's it? No surname, nothing to connect you with a family of sorts?" The General seemed obviously skeptical.

The sweat beaded on the back of Zelgius' neck. How long could he keep lying? "N-No," he answered. "My parents…I never truly knew them at all."

Gawain eyed him curiously and placed his right hand on his hip. Zelgius couldn't tell if Gawain knew that he was lying and deliberately trying to avoid the subject, but he still didn't like the look in Gawain's eyes. It was almost reminiscent of recognition, that Gawain could see something about Zelgius that made him look that way. Was it the name or Zelgius' face that tipped him off to something? There was the same look of suspicion in his eyes that had been in General Tauroneo's earlier that day. Zelgius remained leaning against the stone wall in awkward silence, still unable to look at the Divine Knight directly.

But instead of pressing the matter further, Gawain simply shrugged. "So be it. Tell me then, Zelgius, have you ever once considered joining the army? Whether you think so or not, you have enough skill with the blade to get you through basic training and we could always use more men on the defensive front."

Zelgius felt his heart skip a beat. "Of course, General! Only for my entire life have I thought about doing so—"

"Ah, Zelgius, of course!" Gawain snapped his fingers. "I knew your name sounded familiar. You're the boy Targus mentioned, the one that works in the silver mines north of here."

"Captain Targus mentioned me?" Zelgius asked.

"He did. 'Strong as an ox!' he said. He also told me that you can hold your own fairly well against Rackson in a fight."

Zelgius felt a bit of pride in himself. "Well, I think I proved that even more today, General."

General Gawain actually smiled. "That you did. Now, about—"

He was cut short at the sound of voices coming from road beyond. "I think they came from down this way!" There was the rustling of armor and weapons on the stone path to the south and judging by sound of things, they were Daein soldiers likely pursuing Rackson and the remaining mercenaries. If they found him here, Zelgius didn't think that his bloodied and broken form would go unnoticed. Not only that, but the large mercenary's gutted form was still sprawled out on the ground. How was he going to explain that?

It turned out he wouldn't have to. Surprisingly, Gawain pushed him back behind the destroyed fruit cart and threw his cloak over the mercenary's body. "Stay hidden and keep quiet. I'll deal with the soldiers." No sooner was Zelgius hidden from sight two men in black armor came hurtling around the corner, lances in hand. But they stopped dead in their tracks when they saw General Gawain.

"General Gawain, sir!" the one on the left addressed him, straightening up and saluting smartly as his companion did the same.

General Gawain gave them a perfunctory nod. "At ease, men."

The left soldier dropped his arm but maintained his rigid posture. "Sir, we have found two men who we believe were involved in a gang fight of sorts a few minutes ago. Their hands were covered in blood, sir."

General Gawain nodded. "Excellent. Have them detained in the gatehouse to await further questioning. I've been doing a bit of inspection myself but I haven't found anything incriminating. How about you? We still don't know who it was they were attacking?"

"No, sir," the right soldier answered this time. "We demanded they tell us when we found them, but they wouldn't say a word. It was almost as if they were too afraid to and their faces were pale white, like they'd just seen a ghost. They looked fairly beat up as well and one of them appeared to have a broken arm. But even if they could have said something, it wouldn't amount to much, given the activity that's common down here."

"These gangs don't even know who exactly it is they're attacking half the time," Gawain said. The soldiers agreed and it was a lie only to Zelgius.

"Could have been the Thieves Guild," one of the soldiers speculated.

Gawain looked thoughtful. "Possible, yes. But they only target politicians and nobles nowadays. But whether it's the Thieves Guild, Mercenary Guild, rival gangs, goddess damn vigilantes. I don't care. I want them all caught. Now tell me: you're certain there was no one else involved in this?"

"No, sir," the two soldiers answered in unison.

"No you're not certain or no that there wasn't anyone else involved?" Gawain asked leadingly.

"No on your second point, sir," the left soldier answered hurriedly.

"We've had this area under heavy surveillance for quite some time and if there were any others, we would have caught them by now," the right soldier added confidently.

"Not heavily guarded enough, it seems," Gawain chastised the pair, folding his arms across his chest. "If you've had this area under your web of lookouts for so long, then how come something like this even happened? Well? Were you off gamboling in the parade instead of tending to your duties, as General Bryce no doubt told you to?"

"The festival, sir—"

"I do not, _will_ not, hear your excuses," Gawain answered firmly. Zelgius was in utter awe at General Gawain's authority with these men. "Now, if you want to prove to me that you're as reliable as you claim, then get back out there and either bring me someone else who was directly involved or a witness who can tell me differently. Failure to do so will result in more severe repercussions. Do I make myself clear?"

The two crestfallen soldiers did their best to maintain their upright posture. They had already failed in their duties, but being berated by their general was even worse. "Yes, sir!" the two chimed together, saluting before hurrying off back down the street.

Zelgius hobbled out from his hiding place as soon as they had gone. "General, those soldiers," he breathed. He couldn't stand for more than a few moments before falling to his knees. "You lied to them. You knew more than they did and that I was the one Rackson was attacking. Why?"

General Gawain looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "I just did you an act of good faith, boy. Don't begrudge me for that."

"But Rackson—"

"_I_ will deal with Rackson when the time comes," Gawain assured him. "He's part of my patrol and my responsibility. He may have enough social and familial connections to keep his worthless backside as a part of my unit for a bit longer, but I can promise you that he will be punished in due time and measure."

That aside, despite how much it comforted him to know that General Gawain would likely keep Rackson from harassing him further, Zelgius' mind was still preoccupied with more important matters. "And…the mercenary?" he asked softly. "Even if it was in self-defense, I still cut the man down without even trying to stop myself…"

Gawain sighed and smirked. "Don't take this the wrong way or anything, boy, but don't worry too much about that 'mercenary' you cut down back there. As a matter of fact, he's not a true mercenary at all, rather a bounty hunter that has gained quite a notorious reputation around here these days." He snorted as his eyes glanced back down the alleyway. "They're worse than mercenaries, these bounty hunters. At least mercenaries are bound by some form of honor. That hunter back there had been taking on all kinds of despicable jobs that have appeared to be more about the killing than the gold he no doubt received. Bryce might even be pleased to know that he's out of the way."

Zelgius wasn't sure if he agreed with that. "General, are you condoning the act of killing—"

Gawain raised his hand. "No, not entirely. Self-defense, as you said. You may not be completely aware of this, Zelgius, but it's kill or be killed everywhere in Daein, even outside the army. You do what you can to stay alive, especially down here in the lower levels of the city. You even have to kill where it's needed. It sounds harsh, yes, but that's the way things work here. If you'd spent as much time in the slums as I have, you would have learned that quickly." He looked back down the alleyway. "And I'll send some of my own men down to retrieve the body shortly. The Knights are good at keeping this sort of thing covered up."

General Gawain bent over and lifted Zelgius off the ground and wrapped Zelgius' uninjured arm around his right shoulder. "Now come on, boy. I've talked enough. We'd best get you home so that those injuries can be properly attended to. I did what I could to patch them up myself, but it won't hold for long. Where do you live?"

_Home?_ Zelgius thought. He couldn't go home _now_, where his father was surely to be waiting for him, with Rackson at his side. "I…can't do that, General," he coughed, holding his side as he doubled over again. He fell to his knees again. "I can find a doctor somewhere here in town or you can take me to the army barracks, either one."

Gawain pulled him back to his feet. "Don't be ridiculous, boy." His voice was gruff. "Wherever you live is bound to be closer than the army barracks or the city infirmary down by the gatehouse. I'm not up for a trek back either of those places at the moment and I still have business here in town. If you take me there, I'll see to it personally that you get the proper treatment."

Zelgius knew better than to argue that. If General Gawain was with him, things might go better with Erasmus, at first anyways. "At the top of the hill, just west of the palace," Zelgius wheezed. "When we get there my father will—" The last bit slipped out and Zelgius shut his mouth quickly, but the damage had already been done.

_So much for lying._

"The Kallastars?" Gawain asked curiously. "I didn't know Erasmus had a son your age, boy." He raised an eyebrow at Zelgius, who just stared wordlessly at him. "Huh. Interesting. This might actually work out better than I planned."

Zelgius didn't know what that meant and didn't say anything more, for he feared that anything else might give something else, something more important, away. Gawain and Zelgius did their best to keep their pace as swift as possible, but it was slowed considerably. They no doubt received strange looks from the people as they passed along, the sight of their esteemed general pulling along a broken and bloodied man a strange spectacle. Neither them spoke as they walked, General Gawain likely keeping whatever speculations he had about Zelgius' family to himself and Zelgius too fearful to say anything at all. By the time they reached the top of the hill and stepped on the stone path leading to the mansion nearly an hour later, not only was Zelgius about ready to pass out, but even Gawain looked fatigued.

"Whew, you're heavier than you look, boy," he gasped as he set Zelgius back on the ground. "I'll make sure you get inside, but you'll have to support yourself…" Looking around, he spied out the branch of one of Monica's apple trees in the garden that forked two ways on the protruding end. Gawain approached the tree and with one mighty heave, he snapped the branch clean off at its connection to the trunk.

He retreated back to Zelgius and handed him the broken limb. "This will do. Here, stick this under your right arm. It's crude and a bit uncomfortable, but it'll help you get around nonetheless. Come on. Let's go talk to this father of yours."

"Just be careful, General," Zelgius warned as he stuck the limb under his armpit. "Rackson will have already told him about what happened and I don't expect him to be very pleased about what happened. He can be very temperamental—"

Gawain pushed him forward. "Yes, yes. I've heard all about Erasmus' notorious temper these days, but there's nothing that can't be handled with the right amount levelheadedness." He beckoned to the front door, which was partway open. "In you go, son."

No sooner had Zelgius limped into the house, Erasmus was upon him, lunging from the shadows and slamming Zelgius against the wall. Erasmus stripped the sword from Zelgius' back and threw it aside, the sword sliding under the table in the center of the room. "You no good, miserable parasite!" Zelgius risked a glance around the room and failed to see Rackson there, only Maria and his mother near the stairs. His cowardly had likely fled after telling Erasmus what had happened, just as he had done back in the alley.

Erasmus tightened his grip around Zelgius' neck. "Now you're really going to get it! First you steal my sword and abandon your job in the mines, but now you attack your cousin and nearly kill him! If you think that I'll go easy on you because you're mother's here—"

That was when he noticed General Gawain. The general had made no move to intervene as Erasmus had thrown Zelgius against the wall and stayed motionless in the doorway, waiting patiently.

Erasmus released Zelgius and threw him to the floor. Zelgius landed on his injured leg and let a cry of anguish as he gasped for air. "You!" he exclaimed, thrusting his middle finger at Gawain. "What in the bloody hell are you doing here? I told you years ago that you were not to step foot inside this house, let alone onto my property!"

General Gawain stepped off the threshold and into the house. He looked around casually, clearly unimpressed by the Begnion insignias that covered the walls. "Erasmus Kallastar. It's been a while. Not since that fiasco with my brother at the Begnion Embassy nearly five years ago, I believe."

"Get out of my house," Erasmus spat, waving his left arm. "I'll not have your 'high-and-mighty' presence here. It doesn't matter if you're one of the Riders; I still have the right to refuse you an audience."

Gawain ignored his command entirely and looked over at Zelgius. "So, you're the boy's father, eh? Now I see it. It seems so obvious in retrospect. His eyes, his hair, his build…" He looked back at Erasmus. "Even the ferocity and the speed of which he fights."

"So you were there?" Erasmus demanded. "You saw him butcher those other men and yet you bring him up here, practically cradling him like a lost child?"

"No," General Gawain said, looking at Zelgius, "I saw a fierce, strong-hearted man backed into a corner and fighting for his very life while five men tried to kill _him_." His eyes were hard. "I don't know what lies Rackson has been telling you, Erasmus, but you're a greater fool than I thought if you believe anything that arrogant hothead says. In fact, I'm the only reason Zelgius is in as good of condition as he is now."

"Just shows how tarnished the name of a Great Rider is then," Erasmus said as he folded his arms across his chest. "Because you know, out of all of the King's most trusted men, you're probably the most despised among the nobility. At least the other three belong to well-respected families, even if your friend Tauroneo is a rival of mine. I still can't believe that that someone of common birth would be able to work his way up from a lowly peasant to your position." Erasmus shook his head. "Getting in useless back alley brawls. Tsk. Proof that His Majesty's word isn't what it used to be."

"Then King Garen has no more faith in me than he does in you, Erasmus," Gawain countered.

Erasmus' left eye twitched, as it always did when he was trying, and often failing, to bottle up his anger. "I did not return to the capital early today to be lectured by some provincial dog whose fame is nothing more than an empty and false legacy," Erasmus retorted and he violently thrust his arm in the direction of the door. "Get out. Your overwhelming peasant stench is making nauseous. You brought that worthless whelp back to me, so I don't want to see you near my property again. And if I do see you here again, I'm reporting you to His Majesty _after_ removing you by force."

Gawain didn't budge. "But I'm not finished with you yet, Erasmus."

Erasmus' eyes flashed with rage and he tightened his fists. "Yes you are."

"No, I'm not." Gawain backed away a few steps toward the door. "The fact that I have brought Zelgius back here is only part of the reason I came up here at all." He motioned to Zelgius. "I fully intended to help the boy from the start but if I may be cliché about this, I am going to kill two birds with one stone with this visit. I am here to fulfill an immediate demand of His Majesty, something a good friend of mine and 'rival' of yours was unable to accomplish earlier today due to your absence, Erasmus."

The last piece of the puzzle finally fell into place as Zelgius remembered. _General Tauroneo._

The anger on Erasmus's face was gone almost instantly. One mention of the King silenced him. "A…demand?" He breathed cautiously. "From His Majesty?"

General Gawain nodded silently and produced a tightly rolled scroll from within his tunic and held it forth so that Erasmus could see it clearly. From his own angle, Zelgius could see that it bore the mark of not just Daein's nobility but of the instantly recognizable black falcon and crossed spears, the crest of His Majesty, King Garen the Fourth.

Erasmus clearly saw more to it than Zelgius could and his face paled. "His Majesty…why would he send a Great Rider to bear me a message unless…"

Gawain unraveled the scroll and held it out in front of him. "Then I'll get straight to it." He audibly cleared his throat. "Erasmus Kallastar, steward and governor of the northeastern territories of the sovereign kingdom of Daein and personal aid to the Crown, His Majesty the King has hereby deemed you corruptible and unworthy in the continuing of your service to him." Gawain's voice was deep and authoritative. "You have been found guilty by not only the King and the Riders but by the people you swore to serve in the name of this country to have taken part in inhumane excesses in Daein in the extent of your charge over the past twenty-five years. Taxes have dishonestly been levied from your people and found to be used in the purchasing of illegal goods and supposed aiding of the Begnion military, both of which are deemed to be first class offenses to the Crown."

Zelgius's jaw dropped for the second time that day. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. He had always known that his father had been crooked and never fair in his treatment of the people or clean in his dealings with Begnion, but never would he have guessed them to go so far as to border treason in the eyes of the King. Erasmus's eyes had widened and not even anger was to be seen on his face, only shock and disbelief.

"Therefore," Gawain continued, never breaking in his speech, "knowing this, the King has formally deemed you unworthy to continue serving as his advisor in domestic and foreign affairs. As per political decree forty-eight set down by founder Hengist, you are accused of treason of the highest order and as such, you are summarily dismissed from the Royal Court to await further hearing and trial. All of your lands to the east will be accosted and redistributed amongst the nobility as His Majesty sees fit. All political power and connections you once had through your position had are hereby eradicated, be they through nobility…" Gawain's eyes slid toward Zelgius as he finished. "Or political power held by way of implied familial ties."

Finished, Gawain lowered the scroll. "So here's what's going to happen," he said, rolling the scroll up tightly. He resealed it and placed it on the table. He stepped back between Zelgius and Erasmus. "You are not going to question me again and you are going to stand there and not move one muscle as I take Zelgius back with me to the main square to meet with General Tauroneo. Then I'll be back for you. His Majesty has demanded an immediate audience with you and I won't be returning to him empty-handed this evening. And any political power you once had over your son, Erasmus, whether it was as a servant or as a son, is gone. The only thing that can keep Zelgius here is his own free will."

Erasmus looked about ready to explode, his face redder and more contorted than Zelgius had ever seen. His eyes were squeezed shut tightly and he was clearly struggling to come to grips with both of the revelations he had been presented with. The tension was nearly unbearable as all eyes remained fixed on Erasmus' silent and shaking form.

General Gawain finally spoke again. "So what will it be, Erasmus? You can either accompany me back to the palace or we can do this the hard way and—"

"NO! DAMN YOU TO HELL, YOU PRETENTIOUS BASTARD! HE'S MY SON AND YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM!" Erasmus threw the table aside with one mighty heave, snatched his blade from the floor and charged at General Gawain.

General Gawain never even made a motion for his own sword as Erasmus charged at him, bellowing like a madman and clearly intent on beheading Gawain where he stood. Instead, Gawain simply ducked like he had in his duel as Erasmus' mighty blade whooshed over his head and cut through nothing but air.

As the general dropped to one knee, his left hand found the makeshift crutch that Zelgius had dropped when Erasmus had jumped him. As Erasmus pivoted on his right foot to bring Molur'hool down Gawain's skull, General Gawain thrust the broken tree limb up at Erasmus' falling arm. The forked end stopped Erasmus' strike dead just above his elbow and for a moment, Erasmus hesitated. That brief pause cost him as Gawain's right leg found his groin and Erasmus grunted as he stumbled back. Gawain was on his feet in a second and wielding the piece of wood in both hands, his next strike connected with Erasmus' jaw. There was a sickening crunch and blood and saliva flew from Erasmus' mouth. The force of the blow spun Erasmus around in a full circle but he somehow managed to remain standing.

Still in a daze, Erasmus had no chance at preparing for Gawain's next move. By the time he had straightened up, General Gawain was already behind him. Gawain seized Erasmus by the back of his neck and pushed Erasmus' neck down so low that Zelgius thought he heard his father's spine crack in more places than one. This time Erasmus let out an audible cry of pain and he fell to his knees. The fight was no doubt over but as with the mercenaries in the alley, Gawain wasn't going to go easy on Erasmus, whether it was more for personal pride or disdain for Zelgius' father. Either way, it was now personal.

Gawain wasted no time and gave no mercy as he spun Erasmus' twisted body around so that Erasmus was now between him and south wall. Before Erasmus could raise either of his arms in whatever form of meager self-defense he had in mind, Gawain backhanded Erasmus in the face so hard that Erasmus' back straightened to nearly an upright position. As Erasmus began to fall back on his heels, Gawain's powerful right leg shot out and his boot connected squarely with Erasmus' chest. Erasmus stumbled back before smashing into the eight foot tall mirror on the wall adjacent to the front door. The glass shattered on impact and rained down on Erasmus as he slumped back against the broken mirror, his eyes half open and blood trickling down his face in more places than one. Molur'hool clattered to the floor and lay discarded at his feet.

For a moment nobody moved or even breathed. The room had gone so quiet that the Goddess herself might as well have present and rendered everyone there speechless. Monica and Maria were huddled closely together in the corner of the room near the stairs while Zelgius still had his back pressed against the east wall, too afraid to even breathe audibly. It was so unreal, surreal almost. It had all happened so incredibly fast. Only a minute ago the room had been well-kept and relatively calm. Now, shards of glass littered the floor, the table lay upturned and General Gawain stood motionless in the middle of the room, with Erasmus lying broken and bleeding on the crimson-splattered marble floor. Five minutes of General Gawain's presence had brought more tension and chaos to the house that Zelgius had experienced in the past five years put together. And _that_ was saying something.

Gawain finally broke the tense silence. "I'm not exactly ashamed to say that I've waited five years to do that," he proclaimed, letting out a heavy sigh. The ferocious look in his eyes had faded and he was surprisingly calm once again. There was still hate in his voice, however. "But I wasn't about to get involved in some petty schoolyard squabble either. That was for my brother and the integrity of the army as much as it was for me, Erasmus. But you can consider your debt to me settled now. That's one less you owe, but don't you dare forget about the one you also owe to General Tauroneo."

Gawain adjusted Ettard and dusted himself off. "That being said, I am taking Zelgius with me and if you even try to make any move to stop me, Erasmus…" This time he fingered the sword at his back. "You will have to further prove that you still possess some of your fabled ferocity with a blade and this time, I won't hold back."

Erasmus didn't so much as twitch and Zelgius for one knew that General Gawain wasn't bluffing. Having already seen General Gawain's true swordsmanship and martial arts prowess for the third time today, Zelgius knew that anything Erasmus could still muster would be less than futile. Zelgius didn't know what was more shocking: the fact that his father, who had always exhibited so much physical strength, had just been beaten to a pulp or that General Gawain claimed to be "holding back".

"But I've lingered here long enough," Gawain said. "I'll send a detachment up to take you back to the palace, Erasmus." He turned to Zelgius. "Gather what you need and meet me outside, boy. Let's see if we can't do something about your enlistment. We're burning daylight here and I do believe we need to meet with an old friend of mine at the gatehouse before sundown."

He turned to Zelgius' mother as he left. His eyes were suddenly kind and he placed his right hand on his chest, bowing slightly. "Lady Monica, my sincere apologies for making a mess of things. You truly do keep a lovely home." The glass crunched under his boots as he strode from the house, never even giving Erasmus a passing glance.

Even the shock of all that had transpired in the past few hours couldn't prevent Zelgius from hurrying after General Gawain. Zelgius didn't even give his mother a glance as he retrieved his fallen cloak and the sack of gold that had been thrown across the room. She looked too afraid to say anything at all and needless to say Zelgius had nothing more to say to her. Monica had already failed to keep the promise she had made only that morning. There were still things he didn't know, needed to know, but his mother wouldn't tell him now. And except for one thing, Zelgius wouldn't need anything in the way of provisions or arms after he met with Tauroneo and headed over to the army barracks.

Zelgius turned back toward the door and his father. The sword still lay at Erasmus' feet.

_It's always been yours, Zelgius. It may not have belonged to men with great integrity, but it has always belonged to the man with the greatest strength. That is its legacy._

_Mol'urhool,_ Zelgius thought. _Heart of courage._ What was more fitting for him than that?

Perhaps there was still a chance that the blade could be used for something worthy of its name. Then Zelgius could rightfully claim the weapon as his own one day.

"You…really think there's something you can do, don't you…" Erasmus slunk away as Zelgius half walked half limped over to him and picked up the sword. He pressed his back farther against the wall, holding his hands in front of his face and cowering like a scared animal. For the first time, Zelgius actually saw fear in his father's eyes. It was almost as if he finally saw Zelgius as a threat, no longer a boy and instead the man Erasmus had unknowingly molded Zelgius into. It gave Zelgius a demented feeling of happiness or rather satisfaction. "You've…always…been weak. You think you're strong now…just because Gawain's here to protect you…?" He laughed weakly. "So…pathetic…"

Even now Erasmus still denied it. Disgusting. Zelgius bent close and pulled his father forward by the scruff of his neck. Erasmus's arms went limp and Zelgius said not a word as he slammed his father's head against the remains of the broken mirror. It felt rather spineless, kicking a man while he was down, but Erasmus deserved no better.

"Everything I am is nothing more than a reflection of yourself," Zelgius whispered. "I don't know if that's good or bad, but I'll make do. And congratulations, father. You've finally gotten what you've always wanted." Zelgius stepped away and put his right hand on the door before he turned back to take one final look at his father. Erasmus looked so broken and weak, a true testament of what he was in the face of greater men and a power that he had no control over.

Erasmus raised his arm to point at him. "I'll…find you again, boy. I'll bring you back," he wheezed. "You can't run…from what you are…" He coughed up blood once again. "Don't…forget…who holds…the leash…"

Zelgius responded in a voice that he barely recognized as his own. More terrifyingly, it sounded the same as his father's. He thought he heard his final words echo through the largely vacant house as he slammed the front door behind him for one final time.

"I haven't forgotten."

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><p><strong>Long Ending Note:<strong> There you are. My two favorite chapters thus far! I hope I made them both worth the long wait! Man, I've wanted to give Erasmus what was coming to him for so long now. I hope I've driven your hate for Erasmus far enough by now that you also feel the same. And I had as much fun writing General Gawain as I did Zelgius for these chapters. Did I make him awesome enough? I felt obligated to include Aether (how could I not?) since I seem to love writing the mastery skills into my stories, as I've already tried my hand at Eclipse. I might actually expand on all of that, mastery skills and all. I've actually got something lined up for Astra much later. So, anyways, thanks to General Gawain, Zelgius is finally on his way to meet with General Tauroneo and join the army. About time, right? I'll wrap things up as far as Zelgius' Nevassan/mining life is concerned next chapter and then begins his army training. Will say now: it won't be smooth sailing as you might expect! (Is anything ever when it comes to Zelgius?).

I'd also like to give a shout-out to a few of my bros here on FF who helped me with a few things this time around. Firstly, Lex of Light gave me a few tips and pointers on writing Tauroneo's character (since he seems to know him very well, lol); and secondly, to ExposedWiresExposedVeins, who acted as my beta of sorts on that piece with Micaiah last chapter. Thanks so much for that, guys. Oh, and Destinykeyblade for some great dialogue pointers. Noting the second one, I aimed for making Micaiah's appearance somewhat meaningful, as it will mean more to Zelgius as the story moves along. I will try hard to get the next chapter out at the end of February or mid-March if I can. I'd also like to direct you to another Zelgius story that was written for me by Macbeth7768. Called "The Third Duel", it is. Really good read, guys. And people: if you haven't read "Child of Wonder" yet, you need to. Destinykeyblade, I sincerely apologize for not having reviewed in a while as I am mostly caught up with the story. Seriously, guys. Those two Zelgius stories. If you haven't already read them, off with you!

And to make a bold comment on my Zelda-related note on my last update: is it blasphemous if I think Skyward Sword topped Ocarina of Time for best Zelda game? *Grabs Hylian Shield and braces for hate mail*. Shoot at me with arrows if you will, just don't get Zelgius to do it!


	7. VI: New Beginnings

**Author's Note:** UGH, I APOLOGIZE. PLEASE FORGIVE MY OVERLY LONG ABSENCE. But hey, look who's still alive and most definitely still working on this story? First off, to those of you who have been following this story in the past, I'm afraid I MUST sincerely apologize at how long it's taken me to update this story again (If she happens to be reading this, Destinykeyblade can feel free to beat me upside the head with any blunt object of her choosing; I have no objections and no doubt deserve it. Actually, doesn't even have to be blunt). Either way, if you had been reading this and given up on this story, I don't blame you. I haven't much excuse but long story short, things have just been so incredibly crazy with college, work, etc. the past several months, which have all kept me from doing much work on this. Now, I can't promise that updates will be really frequent from here on out, but I CAN assure that I will do my very best to not put this on hold for nearly a year or more than a few weeks/months. You have my word on that. Again, I apologize. Perhaps I should have made some kind of note or something. Anyways! You'll also have to forgive me if this chapter is a bit substandard than usual, since I'm just now getting back into heavy writing again. So, if anything, I ask for your patience in that regard.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Dark Destiny<strong>_

**Part One: By the General's Hand**

_VI: New Beginnings_

_Broken. The chains had finally been broken. Horrible, rusted chains that simply reflected the life he had lived thus far. But now they were gone and with a sense of dignity and pride, he had thrown off the shackles and severed all ties to his past while keeping his own identity intact. And with those broken chains, the man who had once held them was nothing more than a shell of his former self._

These were the only thoughts on Zelgius' mind as for the very last time, he strode proudly down the cobblestone path leading out through the gates and onto the streets back out into the heart of Nevassa. It was such an incredible feeling that even felt surreal. Zelgius felt as though he was walking in a dream, completely apart and separate from the physical world around him. And yet, his surroundings were exactly the same as they had been before. There were no longer any walls, no rough cave walls that had so long kept him shrouded away and secluded from the rest of the world. It was terribly ironic that in the moment Zelgius should have felt a part of the world he had not truly ever seen, he still felt disconnected, but it was in a much different way than before. This time he felt _free_, happy even, feelings that he had only falsely experienced for a short time earlier that day. The things that should have plagued his mind, such as the acknowledgement of Captain Targus' total failure to look out for him and the gutted mercenary lying back in the slums of Nevassa, never even crossed his mind. At that moment, they didn't matter to him. The only things in the physical world that he was currently aware of were his mother's magically induced flowers that bordered the path: the lilacs on the left and the roses to his right. It would be the last time Zelgius would appreciate any of it. He would almost miss the flowers; they had been the only measure of small comfort he had gotten in his five years here.

_Freedom. _Such a sweet, and yet so foreign, word.

But it would be a mistake to assume that Zelgius was truly alone at the moment. At the very least, he could feel the presence of the voice that had spoken to him every night up until now. Somehow it felt closer now and rather than feeling like simply an observer or persistent irritation, the ether about it was that of a companion, of a protector even. Only now, it didn't bother or vex him as it had before.

So in his mind, Zelgius questioned himself. Had he truly ever been alone, as he had always considered himself to be? While he was no closer to discerning whether these feelings were real or not, he could at least take comfort and certainty in the thought that _someone_ was watching over him.

And of course, there was still the man in front of him. General Gawain, the man who Zelgius knew he would forever be indebted to. This man, out of some mysterious and inner motive, had given him his life back. Zelgius could argue that it had been his open defiance of his father that had turned this mad game of chess in his favor, that through his own strength he had moved his pieces in such a way that he had put Erasmus into a forced and unexpected "checkmate". Yet, for all he could say of his own strength and guile, it was the knight that had given him the advantage to bring Erasmus down to his knees. In chess, a game of both kings and commoners alike, the knight was the most devious and cunning piece available in the player's array and most often, if properly used, could strike when the opponent least expected it and completely throw off the opponent's arrangement of pieces. The knight was often regarded as the true strength and backbone of the army; the fortitude and pillar of strategy. The knight more than any other piece was to be relied on the most heavily.

Erasmus had spoken those words to him long ago when a young Zelgius had asked them while watching his father play a game with a colleague. Only now did Zelgius see their truth. Ironic, considering Erasmus had failed to properly understand them in the end. Needless to say that as both a man and as a soldier, General Gawain had gained Zelgius' full respect in less than twenty-four hours where Erasmus had failed to do so in over twenty-four years.

Zelgius followed General Gawain through the gates at the edge and once they were out on the street, Zelgius spoke up. "Just out of curiosity, General, should we really be leaving my father back the house by himself without a guard?" He looked back behind him.

"There is only one way from this house back into the heart of the city and that is down this very road," Gawain replied without turning around. "Even if Erasmus were to leave the house, he wouldn't get far, given the condition we left him in. And I would imagine that more than a few people in town would take notice of a beaten up noblemen limping through the streets of Nevassa."

"Even though it would still be more prudent to have a guard on him here?" Zelgius asked.

General Gawain chuckled softly. "Well I can see you're obviously concerned about your father getting the justice that's still coming to him, boy. And I like that." The General suddenly stopped walking and motioned down the street with his left arm. "But if you're so concerned about it, you can take it up with my soldiers if you would like."

Zelgius' eyes followed Gawain's arm down the path in front of him. There were two Daein soldiers waiting no doubt for them at the end of the road and both stood at rigid attention as General Gawain led Zelgius toward them. Both men had a different look to them than that of regular soldiers, mostly notably their black armor, which was far more elaborate and even gold-plated around the edges than that of the common soldiers Zelgius had seen. The tallest man on the left was armed to the teeth and carried a massive golden and double horned axe on his back, a short sword at his belt and two daggers strapped to his body, one on his upper chest and another tucked in sheath on his left boot. More notable than any of that was his incredibly spiked orange hair that was borderline ridiculous. The soldier next to him, however, was at least half a head shorter than his companion with cropped blue hair but stockier and built much larger. He carried no large weapon and was relatively unarmed save for the dagger strapped to his belt.

"General," the one on the right began as Gawain and Zelgius came upon them, "the deed you commanded of us is taken care of. We have arranged for the 'cargo' to be transported out of the city via caravan and taken to the compound for proper disposal by the end of the day."

Gawain nodded. "On time and efficient as always, Brock." He looked over at the man next to him and winked ever so slightly that Zelgius almost missed it. "Nice to know that one of you two can actually get a task accomplished in an orderly fashion. Guess I wasn't wrong in pairing the two of you together so it would actually look like Garet was getting something done."

The one Gawain referred to as Garet put his right hand on his chest and feigned insult at the general's remark. "General Gawain, you know full well that I do my very best to uphold the army's and your standards on and off the battlefield! You can't honestly believe that Brock does any better than I do!"

General Gawain folded his arms across his chest and gave Garet a scrupulous look. "That may be, but don't forget it's his brain that keeps your thick head in line, Garet. Armed as you are, I would have thought the capital was under siege."

Garet adjusted the massive, golden axe on his back. "You know I can't just let Brock walk around by himself when he's carrying no weapon, General. Best to be prepared for every eventuality."

Brock glared at him. "And you would do well to remember that I can't let _you_ walk around unsupervised, Garet."

Garet mocked insult for the second time. "You still think I'm not smart enough to make proper judgment all by myself?"

"No, I'm saying you're reckless."

"Reckless? Hardly! I would choose 'eager' or 'overenthusiastic' to describe my behavior most times!"

Brock's stone face actually cracked a smile. "Which is exactly why I shouldn't leave your side at all."

_They're surprisingly relaxed for being in General Gawain's presence,_ Zelgius noted silently as he watched the two soldiers bicker. _This can't be how all of the general's soldiers conduct themselves._

"All right, gentlemen, that's enough," Gawain finally said and the two soldiers turned their attention back to him.

General Gawain seemed to suddenly remember that Zelgius was even there. "But I'm forgetting proper introductions." He eyed Zelgius. "Boy, as you've well gathered, this is Garet and Brock." He motioned to each of the men in turn. "They are both part of my personal unit, the Black Knights, and are also two of the most stubborn and sub-standard soldiers this army has ever seen."

Garet chuckled at a joke Zelgius didn't get. "You praise us too much, General."

"Don't be asking me for a promotion, Garet," Gawain answered. His face betrayed the actual seriousness in his voice as he turned back to Zelgius. "Brock, Garet. I'd like to introduce you to our army's newest recruit, the one who, just between the four for now, mind you, we can accredit the little 'happening' that occurred down in the slums earlier today. His name is Zelgius."

Brock blinked in what Zelgius guessed to be disbelief or even surprise. "Zelgius?" He spat the name out like it was poisonous. The mere mention of the name killed any kind of lighthearted aura that had existed previously. He exchanged an uneasy look with Garet before looking back at General Gawain. "Isn't that…"

Garet nodded in acknowledgement and his face screwed up in equal disgust as he locked eyes with Zelgius. "Aye, it is. Only ever heard that name once before. You're no doubt Erasmus' son, aren't you?"

Zelgius held his ground. By now, he knew all too well why people in the army were so displeased with even the slightest reference of his father. "Yes. And what of it? I suppose you're to think that I'm the exact same as my father?"

It was Brock that gave him an answer instead, and General Gawain made no motion to interfere as the bulky soldier stepped up to Zelgius. Brock sized him up, despite being nearly a head shorter than Zelgius. "Doesn't matter," he hissed. Brock's tone hadn't been at all friendly before, but it was noticeably sour now. "Doesn't matter one bit to me what you say about yourself. Your father's reputation is reason enough for me or anyone not to trust you nor welcome you with open arms into our ranks. You don't belong here."

The words stung and weren't exactly untrue, but Zelgius had no intention of getting into any kind of quarrel with anyone before he had even joined the army.

Before Zelgius could respond, General Gawain shot them both a cautionary glance. "Brock, that's enough. You and Garet are done here. Send word back to the Great Wall to have a patrol report up here to take Erasmus back to the Keep. Lamorak and Agraveris should be stationed there. General Bryce will be expecting our councilman soon enough. After that, the two of you may retire to the barracks for the evening."

Brock obliged and backed away, but still his eyes remained on Zelgius. "Of course, General." He shoved his way past Zelgius and as he did, he leaned close to Zelgius's ear. "Daein already doesn't have you in the army," he whispered. "Daein doesn't _need_ you in the army." He said not another word as Garet followed after him down the path, the massive axe wielder not even giving Zelgius another glance as he brushed past him.

Once the two were out of earshot, Zelgius spoke. "Not to be disrespectful, General, but is he always so blunt?"

"Depends on who you ask," General Gawain said after a moment. "Out of all my knights, Brock is the most serious and straightforward of the bunch, something you get used to and even respect after enough time around him. There's no one I trust more for an honest opinion, even if that opinion is a bit harsh and blunt." He turned back down the road. "But I'm tired of these interruptions. We'd better get moving if we're to speak with Tauroneo before the day's out."

Zelgius tried to keep up on his injured leg the best that he could to keep pace up next to Gawain. "I only hope that he approves of my enlistment so that I can join up as soon as possible. I'm anxious to leave this all behind and start anew in the army."

"I can understand your enthusiasm, Zelgius, I truly can, but it might be best if you left most of that to me," Gawain advised him. "It isn't that Tauroneo will outright refuse your enlistment if I bring you to him myself, but he likely won't just take your word on anything, Zelgius, considering he hasn't seen you fight firsthand. Or even knows if you _can_ fight."

"But I'd imagine my connection to Erasmus won't exactly help my case either," Zelgius postulated.

Gawain grunted in agreement. "Well, there is always that."

"But if I may ask you something else, General," Zelgius said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "When General Tauroneo came to my house this morning looking for my father, he sounded very displeased at the prospect of having to do so. I could tell that Captain Targus could see it. Not only that, but you mentioned a 'debt' that Erasmus still has to pay to Tauroneo. If I may ask, what was that all about?"

"I'm not sure I'm the right person to tell you that, boy," Gawain replied. "I don't know the full story, but the lowdown is that Tauroneo's family has had bad blood with your father's lot for decades. Goes way back before Tauroneo or your father were even born, yet something more personal happened between the two of them in recent years that I'm not completely aware of."

Confused, Zelgius pressed the matter further. "But if General Tauroneo is your good friend, why hasn't he told even you?"

Gawain stopped walking and turned to face him. His face was inscrutable. "Listen, boy, let me tell you something," he said. "I can see your desire to find out more about what happened, being as it involved your father and all, but do yourself a favor and let it go. Stop asking questions about a man that the rest of the army would sooner just forget and in regards to General Tauroneo, worry more about the subject of your recruitment and ultimately your training. Understood?"

Zelgius nodded. "I understand, General."

That put an end to any other conversation between the two of them as they continued on down through the city into Nevassa's lower levels, weaving their way through the crowds. Zelgius hoped that he hadn't said too much already. He usually had a better handle on keeping his mouth shut but when it came to Erasmus, he couldn't help but be curious. Perhaps it all stemmed from his anxiety of how others in the army would treat him once they knew of his connection to Erasmus.

It wasn't much longer before they reached the lowest levels of the city near the gatehouse where a crowd of considerable size was gathered. Zelgius immediately assumed that a majority of the people amassed there were the men intent on visiting the recruiting station, not to mention their families there to see them off. His thoughts were proved right as he took a closer look at them, men and women both, young and old. Most carried their own weapons and had a hard look about them: seasoned mercenaries, bounty hunters or trackers come to seek a more steady form of employment, despite the army's strict regulations. If there were this many of them, Zelgius had to guess that more than a few sought to join the army to escape former debts or bounties that might be posted on their heads. They knew the Daein army was desperate and wouldn't have the luxury of thorough background checks. Ex-criminals and blades-for-hire. Cutthroats some. Zelgius almost shuddered at the thought of working with such men and women, but had to hope that any misgivings he had would be put to rest by the austere nature of the army's training program. He knew enough to know that anyone who disrespected authority here would be swiftly dealt with.

The crowds parted instantly for Zelgius and his "escort" as they entered the square, the people obviously surprised to see their general there. Gawain completely ignored any murmurs or praise he received from the crowds and instead his eyes intently scanned the area before finally settling on the recruiting booth set up directly next to the gatehouse.

Instantly recognizable was the man Zelgius had been so anxious to officially meet with for the past several days. Heavily mustached face and still dressed in his full silver combat armor as he had been earlier that day, General Tauroneo could have been picked out in a crowd of thousands in mere seconds. He sat behind the table the acted as the recruiting booth, examining and questioning each man before him. The line in front of the booth was incredibly long and Zelgius wondered just how much time would pass until he was able to meet with Tauroneo.

As it turned out, General Gawain wouldn't wait to see. Assuming a surprisingly relaxed stance, he folded his arms across his chest and kept his gaze focused on the booth, more specifically the soldier standing at Tauroneo's left side. He never moved and simply waited. As tall as he was, Gawain was easily noticed as the stirring of the crowds drew the soldier's attention.

Apparently the look on Gawain's face told the man all he needed to know. The soldier bent down close to Tauroneo and whispered in his ear. The Moonlight Knight immediately looked up and met eyes with Gawain. Whereas Tauroneo might have ignored anyone else, Tauroneo obliged Gawain's presence and looked up at the soldier next to him. He uttered a few words before standing and leaving the table. The soldier took Tauroneo's seat at the table and lance in hand, Tauroneo strode purposely over to where Gawain and Zelgius stood. The crowds parted before him as they had done for Gawain and Zelgius and his pace never slowed. The scowl on his mustached face was clearly not one of pleasure and his gaze was piercing.

A look of recognition passed across Tauroneo's face as he drew closer and spotted Zelgius. "So we meet again, boy," he said gruffly. "Looks like you've suffered a little worse for wear since we met last."

"It's good to see you again, General," Zelgius answered, nodding dutifully, slightly alarmed that the general had addressed him first.

Now Tauroneo turned to Gawain. "Now, my friend, I'm sure you have a good reason for pulling me aside and telling my sergeant to handle the recruiting."

"Two reasons, actually," Gawain answered quickly. "For one, you should be please to know that our business with Erasmus Kallastar has been settled and a few of my Knights should be en route to retrieve him and take him to the Royal Palace. I'll be preoccupied with those matters for the remainder of the evening."

Tauroneo nodded in acknowledgement. "Then you have my thanks. If your men are the ones handling it, then it saves me the paperwork later."

Gawain nodded and pushed Zelgius forward. "Secondly, I thought I'd introduce you to the newest member of our army and eventually our southern defensive front, who also happens to be Erasmus's son."

Tauroneo gave Zelgius a brief look-over. "Him? We've met once before, yes, and while the boy certainly _looks_ the part of a soldier, I need to clear him before any decision can be made on recruiting. Don't think you can just disregard my word and assume that I'll agree with you, Gawain."

"Yes, but I—"

The General was interrupted as a soldier pushed his way through the crowd behind Tauroneo and moved up to General Gawain. Gawain seemed to recognize the man and motioned him closer as the soldier began whispering furiously in Gawain's ear. Gawain listened and answered mutedly and hurriedly at times. He once nodded in Zelgius' direction before uttering more.

General Tauroneo, however, looked quite displeased at the soldier's sudden appearance. His brow furrowed and his hands balled up into fists. Whether or not he knew the soldier Gawain was speaking with, Zelgius couldn't know, but he appeared quite upset at the untimely interruption.

"Harrumph!"

"Hmm…grave news indeed," Gawain said to the soldier, more audibly this time, without bothering with Tauroneo. "Find General Maiel. He should be more than capable to command things until I arrive tomorrow morning. Tell him to deploy three additional mage squads at the southernmost towers and hold there. We should be able to redeploy more troops to Tor Garen tomorrow if we have to. Now, you have your orders—"

"Gawain!"

General Gawain shooed the soldier away and turned back to Tauroneo. "Calm down, my friend. A situation has arisen at the border that needed to be addressed. I hadn't forgotten about you."

"It's not being forgotten that I'm worried about," Tauroneo answered none too kindly. "I simply do not approve of the fact that you would so hastily decide to admit Zelgius into the army without at least consulting me first."

"I'm consulting you now, aren't I?"

"Only after you'd already made a decision on the matter!"

Gawain sighed. "I don't see the issue, General. Yes, my friend, you indeed _are_ the one in charge of overseeing recruitment and such, but I have admitted Zelgius into _my_ regiment and _my_ men will be responsible for him. I've seen him in action and I know he will be reliable. From what I've seen of him he will not disappoint. I simply thought I'd introduce the two of you so that later you wouldn't find a strange name on your list of recruits. Didn't want you to go through unnecessary measures to find out who Zelgius was."

Tauroneo folded his arms across his armored chest, yet his voice was surprisingly light. "Don't play me for a fool, Gawain. As the boy no doubt already knows, his name would have tipped me off."

"Play you for a fool, General?" Gawain smirked. "Never."

Tauroneo pursed his thick lips before lowering his arms. "Fine," he finally conceded, serious once more. "But don't think this ends here, Gawain. If I don't do it myself, my sergeant will be performing a proper evaluation of the boy in due time. Even so, you're late. This wave of recruits here will have to be postponed until tomorrow and we're closing up here. The rest of the recruits have already headed over to the compound. I've my own duties and I'm not pulling any of my officers here just to take Zelgius back there. I'm sure you can understand that."

"I'll take care of things," Gawain assured him. "It's my fault the boy's late in the first place, so I'll have one of my own men take care of things. If Targus is still around, he should be able to take Zelgius over to the compound to get him settled in."

Tauroneo nodded. "Just make sure I get him cleared tomorrow. But you owe me one, Gawain. For once again giving you just enough leniency to bypass my commands."

"Of course, dear friend. A fire malt whiskey at the pub later this evening? The usual?"

"Tomorrow evening would be more prudent, I think." Tauroneo cracked a slight smile as he turned to go. "But yes, the usual will do." He was gone without another word, moving back through the crowd and resuming his post at the recruiting booth.

"I guess you were right about letting you handle things, General," Zelgius said once Tauroneo was out of earshot. "He likely wouldn't have listened to me at all."

Gawain merely shrugged in response. "It's not something I like to do often, as I don't like to stretch the boundaries of my own authority." He paused before adding, "Or my friendship with General Tauroneo. It's unseemly to make such demands of him, especially considering that the two of us go way back."

"Am I really worth that much trouble?" Zelgius blurted out, suddenly confused. "That you'd risk straining your relationship with Tauroneo?"

Surprisingly, General Gawain ignored his question entirely and stepped away. "I'd best be going now, Zelgius," he said without even giving Zelgius' question notice. He didn't even look back at Zelgius as he did. His voice was distant and his mind seemed elsewhere. Whether it was because of the "situation at the border" he had referred to earlier or even Zelgius' question, Zelgius couldn't tell. "It's been a long day and both of us have things to attend to before the day is completely gone. The soldier I sent away has instructions to find my captain and bring him back here to take you over to the compound. Targus will be along shortly." Then he was gone without so much as a proper farewell and up the stairs leading out of the square, disappearing behind the walls.

"General Gawain!" Zelgius called after him. The general's abrupt departure startled him. How could he just leave so suddenly, without even a commendation or "official welcome" to the army? While the circumstances of his recruit were special and having had the rare opportunity of direct conversation with the general, Zelgius supposed that generals as a whole were like that. Any kind of extended personal interaction between the Riders and the common soldiers was almost unheard of. When you held such a position where the lives of thousands of men rested on your shoulders every day, it was advised not to become too informal with the other men. Personal feelings were considered a weakness in the army. It was an aloofness Zelgius could almost understand.

He sighed and muttered softly under his breath. "Even still, I wish I had been able to thank him for everything he's done for me…"

"Thank him, boy? Don't be silly. You just would have embarrassed him."

The voice had come from behind him and Zelgius turned to find the very man General Gawain had sent for moments ago. The rough, weathered face of the aged army captain that Zelgius had gotten to know so well over the past several days was there, a small smile set in his rugged features.

Zelgius opened his mouth to speak, but Targus cut him short with a warding gesture. "Boy, before you say anything, I feel I should apologize to you," Targus said solemnly, his smile disappearing instantly. "You asked me to keep an eye out for Rackson today and I failed you miserably. I heard about what happened in the alleyways from Brock and Garet only an hour ago and I feel somewhat responsible for what happened."

But Zelgius stubbornly shook his head. "Captain, there's no need for you to apologize to me," he assured him. "There was probably very little you could have done in the first place. It was apparent that Rackson had been planning this since the other day. He even said it was all payback for our scuffle in the mines."

"Well, regardless, I still feel terrible about everything," Targus said softly, leaning on his pike. It was strange seeing him so somber when he had been so excitable at all other times. "Not exactly the best way to start off your enlistment."

Zelgius placed a hand on the older man's shoulder. "Please, don't worry about it anymore, Captain. It's all in the past now. Like I said, there was nothing you could have done."

Targus nodded as Zelgius pulled his hand away. "I suppose you're right." His smile reappeared. "But it was lucky the general found you in time, eh?"

"That was even more surprising than Rackson's attack," Zelgius admitted. "It was quite fortunate that Micaiah found him in the—" He cut short his words as he remembered the girl. "Wait, Micaiah! What happened to her? Have you seen her, Captain?"

Targus shook his head. "No, I haven't. She likely ran and disappeared back into the slums after finding General Gawain. She's likely still there, safe and sound, but we haven't the time to go and look for her if you were that curious."

"True, but I would have liked to see her again one last time before departing for the compound." Zelgius looked around him. The square was emptying fast and already Tauroneo and his recruiting booth were both gone. "Shouldn't we be going, Captain? General Gawain said he wanted me at the compound as soon as possible."

"Speaking of people who you need to talk to, we can't leave quite yet," Targus stopped him. "Whereas I had the silver-haired girl in my company before, I have a different anchor slowing me down this time."

"Who?"

Captain Targus simply moved aside and suddenly Maria was there in his place. The girl sprinted across the square to where he was, her green eyes alight with excitement. "Zelgy!"

"Maria!" Zelgius bent to one knee and caught his sister around her waist as she jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly around the neck.

"I-I was worried that I wouldn't see you again before you left, Zelgy," Maria sobbed, her words shaky and barely comprehensible. "I was afraid you wouldn't come and tell me goodbye."

Zelgius immediately felt guilty for having left her behind. "I'm so sorry, Maria," he said, pulling away. He looked down at her tear streaked face. He hated seeing her like this. It was now clear that she had always cared about him and now he had to hurt her a final time before leaving. "But I can't stay any longer. I am truly sorry that I didn't stay to tell you good-bye when I left the house. I thought I was out of time."

"Are you sure that you can't stay one more day?" she pleaded. Having seen what had happened back at the house she must have known her attempts were fruitless, but she still persisted. "We had so much fun together today I thought we could do the same again tomorrow…"

Zelgius shook his head. "I can't, Maria. If I could stay another day I would, but I just can't." He smiled faintly. "But I immensely enjoyed the time we spent together today. It was the most fun I've had in years. I will treasure those memories always."

Maria sniffed and wiped the tears from her eyes. "But you really are leaving to join the army? To fight under General Gawain?"

"It's what I've always wanted, Maria. This is my only chance and I can't squander it now."

Maria nodded. "I know, brother…" She backed away suddenly and reached back behind her neck. She unclasped the necklace wrapped around her neck and held it out so Zelgius could see it. At the end of the silver chain was a small, checkered jewel, a ruby, shaped roughly in the form of a heart. Zelgius recognized the pendant instantly; his mother carried one that looked exactly like it.

"Here," Maria said, dropping the necklace into Zelgius' palm, "I want you to have this, Zelgy."

Zelgius looked down at the necklace and then back at his sister. "Maria…I…I couldn't possibly take this. Mother gave this to you, since you wanted a necklace that was so much like hers."

Maria shook her head. "Un-uh. Don't you remember, Zelgy? Mother may have gotten it for me but you're the one who gave me most of the gold so I could help pay for it. I told mother that I had been saving it up myself but when I told you I didn't have enough, you gave me your gold from that week's work so I would have enough. Don't you remember?"

Zelgius nodded. "Of course I remember."

"That's why I want you to have it. I wouldn't have gotten it if not for you. It's supposed to bring you good luck and even be magic. That's what mother says, at least. I thought that maybe it would help protect you while you're in the army."

Zelgius had to smile at her. Her childish concern for him was touching. He closed his hand tightly around the jewel. He realized how much he cared for her in turn, how much he didn't _want_ to leave her behind, but he had no choice. He had waited so long to join the army but now that that moment was upon him, he felt hesitation. Time was a cruel mistress.

He would tell her the truth someday. All of it, of course, once he had more answers himself.

"I-I'm going to miss you, brother," Maria choked, hugging him again, tighter than before. "I do love you, Zelgy."

Zelgius had to hold back tears of his own. "And you know that I love you, Maria," he whispered softly. "No matter what happens, I always will."

"I'm sure this is all very touching and all," Targus interrupted with a cough, "but as you noted before, we can't waste any more time here, boy."

Zelgius looked up at Targus. "Of course, Captain. Give me a moment longer." Targus merely grunted in agreement as Zelgius turned back to his sister. "Can you promise me something, Maria?"

"W-What?"

"Whatever you do, don't let father try and tell you how to think or how to live," he said. "Never let him hold you back or make you into something you're not, otherwise you'll end up like me." He paused before adding, "And tell mother that despite everything that's happened between her and me, I'm sorry it had to happen this way. I've done more harm than good, so I think it's time for me to go now, if just to help her move on."

"But…I-I don't understand, Zelgy," Maria whispered. "You won't even go back to tell her goodbye?"

"I know it's hard for you, Maria. If I could change how this turned out, you know that I would. I hate that I have to just leave like this but I can't go back to see mother, not even to say farewell. My time with her and Erasmus is up."

The thought suddenly made him remember something as he reached into his front tunic pocket and produced and small envelope, crumpled and slightly bloodied from the day's events. It was still intact and hadn't been ripped or torn and Zelgius hoped its contents would still be readable.

He held it up so that Maria could see it clearly. "I wrote this the other day when I thought I was actually going to leave to join the army soon, once I was sure that I was even seriously considering leaving and that I would have a chance to," he said, still trying to find the courage in his voice. He held the crinkled enveloped tightly in his right hand, still wondering if he should do this or not. But he decided that it was better this way and that his sister deserved to know much more than Erasmus or Monica did.

He handed it to Maria, who took it. "Here. I want you to have it."

"What…what is it?" she asked.

"It's a letter, but to whom I can't really say. I thought that it might be for father or even mother. Or perhaps both of them, but I'm beginning to think that it's not for either one of them, even though it largely pertains to them. Even so, I can't think of anyone better to give it to other than you, Maria."

His sister looked at the envelope and then back at him. "But I still don't understand, brother…"

Zelgius pulled her close so that he could look her directly in the eyes. "I'm not asking you to understand, Maria. However, just promise me this. Keep it secret. Keep it safe. It is meant for your eyes only and while I can't tell you what it says, only read it when you feel that you're old enough to understand why it is father hates me so. Can you promise me that?"

She hugged him tight and buried her face in his shoulder. Zelgius could feel her tiny shoulders shaking as she sobbed silently into his chest. "I-I will, Zelgy. But will you promise to come back and see me again? After you become a soldier? Someday?"

Zelgius closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Yes, I promise." He reopened his eyes and smiled. "I will see you again, Maria. Someday…"

-X-

"This is the main entryway to the compound," Captain Targus said as he led Zelgius through down the dirt path leading north.

They had left the city almost an hour ago and it had taken them the better part of that hour to get clear of the city's walls and make their way back east and eventually north. It was a strange feeling for Zelgius, being out on the fields south of the city for the first time in over five years. It was so open, so vast compared to the mountains north of the city to which he was so accustomed. The craggy peaks behind the city left him no real view of what lay south of the city and he had forgotten just how open the plains were, seemingly stretching on forever southwards before coming to an abrupt halt at the mountains that marked the border with Begnion. They already lacked the lush green color that was apparent during the spring months and were barren and brown, bereft of any moisture. If Zelgius hadn't spent so long in the mines, the sight would have depressed him greatly. But anything other than the crumbling mineshafts and treacherous mountain slopes was a welcome sight. Twilight was setting in, the skies turned a faint hue of purple as the sun settled in on the western horizon, the sparkling of a few of the brighter stars in the sky already visible.

His heart heavy and his mind in a flurry, Zelgius walked aside Captain Targus, his own limp akin to that of the captain's. His heart still ached after having to leave Maria behind so quickly, but there was nothing for it now. He was fully committed to this and he couldn't allow anything else to get in the way of his dreams, much less his personal feelings. Despite how he had left matters with Erasmus and Monica, Zelgius didn't doubt he would see his sister again someday; he fully intended to keep his promise to her.

Even still, what he wouldn't give for just one more day with her.

"Captain, if I may ask," he was asking as he kept stride with Targus to keep his mind off such matters, "what did you mean earlier when you found me in the square in town?"

"Mean by what, boy?" Targus asked without facing him or slowing his pace. "You'll have to be a bit more specific. I'm losing memory in my old age."

"When you said that General Gawain would be embarrassed if I thanked him."

"Oh, that." Targus waited a few moments before answering. "If there's one thing you learn about the general fairly quickly it's that he doesn't respond to praise or commendation exactly in the way you'd expect. Sure, he deserves all that gets thrown his way, but it all just makes him feel a bit awkward. I imagine that given his history and after so long, he just gets sick of it all after a while."

Zelgius remembered how General Gawain hadn't even smiled or waved at the people's cheers as the two of them had entered the square back in town. "Some could misperceive that as being high-and-mighty or just flat out arrogant," he said.

"True," Targus agreed. "For all who don't know the general, of course. Don't think he doesn't appreciate all of it, he does, but he doesn't have time to dwell or bask in such things like the officers do. Honestly, the general doesn't really care what others think of him personally. What he cares about most is doing his duty and training his men."

"Which actually brings me to another question, Captain." Zelgius adjusted the sword on his back as he walked. The blade felt so heavy. "Why, out of all the possible soldiers and fighters he could have picked from, would General Gawain recruit me? He knows of Erasmus and it seems like a high-risk investment on his part. I only just learned how to really fight and there are no doubt men more qualified than I. He even talked as if I would complete my recruitment without fail and join the southern defenses. Furthermore, why strong-arm Tauroneo in allowing me into the army?"

But Targus simply laughed. "Ha, you'd have to ask the general himself! I can't pretend to know the workings of his mind, but all I can say is that General Gawain _knows _talent when he sees it. I imagine he picked you because other than your skill with a blade, he saw you had heart and determination, traits he admires the most."

"And loyalty?" Zelgius asked. "What about that?"

"Loyalty most of all. General Gawain does not tolerate deserters or rebels in his army."

"And what is the punishment dealt for disloyalty I wonder?"

Targus flashed him a wicked smile. "You'll see soon enough, Zelgius. It's not something you'll have to worry about but with the crop this time around, it will happen sooner or later. I have no doubt of that."

Within moments they had reached the compound and night had fallen completely as they approached. Targus took a torch from the soldier stationed out front and led Zelgius closer. Zelgius was surprised just how much larger it was up close. Even set into the mountainside as it was and constructed entirely of stone, the walls that spanned the perimeter of the building were at least fifteen feet high and set with ramparts at the tops and towers at each of the four corners. A sentry was posted at each. It would be safe to assume that if the capital was ever attacked and under dire circumstances, the compound could be defended as well the city's main walls if ever taken under siege. The aged stone clearly suggested that the compound had been there since the city's first construction and Zelgius had to wonder at the building's own construction. The massive stone blocks that made up the walls looked far heavier than the other's set in Nevassa's walls. The engineering to lift the stones into place was a humbling reminder of the skill and craft of the old days.

The tall, ironbound doors opened for Targus and Zelgius and the two walked through unopposed. Zelgius was immediately greeted with not a low ceiling or torch-lined hallways as he had expected but a vast, open area that was neither roofed nor confined to narrow corridors. Instead, a sprawling open yard was before him, devoid of anything else save for wooden fences that separated him from the very center of area. The center of the yard, enclosed by the fences and surrounded by stone walkways, took up most of the space and unlike the rest of the compound, the ground was dirt with a few patches of grass spotted around. Various weapon racks, all empty, were positioned around the edges of the arena and Zelgius could safely assume what the area was used for.

Targus confirmed his suspicions. "We use that area for certain training exercises during the day," he said, taking a left to circle around the edge of the fence. "As long as you have a sparring partner and an officer present to supervise, you're free to use it whenever you like."

"Does all of the training occur here?" Zelgius asked.

"Not all of it. The exercises for the majority of the soldiers happen outside the compound in the fields. Most often you find controlled matches and other duels here. Sometimes the Riders will even spar in here, though that isn't very often."

Captain Targus left it at that before Zelgius could ask any more questions and took him through a wooden to his left that emptied out into a narrow hallway.

Targus stopped in front of the large iron door at his right halfway down the hall. "Well, that about concludes my tour for you, boy. Sorry I wasn't able to show you more, but's late and I've still work to do before I retire for the evening. You'll see the rest of the compound within the next week." He suddenly eyed Zelgius's sword. "But before I forget, I'll need to take your sword there, boy."

Zelgius hesitated. "My…sword, Captain?"

"It's against army regulations to allow weapons in the living quarters, especially for the recruits," Targus clarified. "Only officers and other high-ranking army officials are permitted to have weapons in certain designated areas on the compound." Targus held up his hand when Zelgius started to object. "No, it's not that I don't trust you, Zelgius! It's just that our crop this time around isn't exactly the most disciplined and considering your own history, I can't afford to provide any of the recruits any unneeded temptation. I'm sure you can understand that."

Zelgius removed Mol'urhool from his back and handed it to Targus. "Of course I understand. Thank you for your concern, Captain."

"You don't have to thank me for this sort of thing," Targus replied gruffly. "It's all part of my job. But you'll get your sword back first thing in the morning." He hoisted the massive blade over his shoulder. "Now, I'd best be off. Too much paperwork to do before the day's out." The aged army captain was off and down the hallway without another word, leaving Zelgius alone once more.

Zelgius opened the door to the living quarters and stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him. The room was relatively dark save for two lit torch racks on either side of him and wasn't of very big size. There were no windows or other openings in the walls. From what Zelgius could tell in the faint light the living quarters was crammed full of cots filled with sleeping soldiers and surprisingly not one of them appeared to be awake. A few men snorted or grunted as Zelgius quietly made his way towards the back the room, taking careful note of the systematic way the cots were arranged in rows of twelve.

He found a lone, empty cot at the far right corner next to a rather heavyset man whose leg slipped over onto the unoccupied cot. Zelgius looked around and finding no other alternative place to sleep, he gingerly moved the man's leg back onto his own bed. The man groaned loudly and turned back over onto his side, but did not wake. Zelgius moved the cot back over against the far wall as much as he could, but no more than a few inches at best. There was no kind of bedding except for a small pillow at one end of the cot. Needless to say Zelgius didn't care; it looked far more comfortable than the bed he had slept in back home.

A wave of exhaustion overtook him immediately as he lay down. Until then, Zelgius hadn't realized just how tired he was and that he hadn't even really sat down at all since the duels earlier that day. So much had happened in the past several hours that it took Zelgius a moment to process it all. Only yesterday had he slaved away in the silver mines with little hope of making any of his dreams a reality. Only yesterday had he suffered under Erasmus's tyranny and treated as less than nothing.

And tomorrow he would officially begin his training and perhaps one day earn the favor of General Gawain himself.

Zelgius felt himself smile. It was the first time he had truly done so in so long. Darkness quickly overcame him and he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Yes, like I said, it's a poor addition after having been gone for so long. Yeah, no fighting this time. Lots of dialogue and the "calm after the storm", I suppose. But to be completely honest, I did experience a bit of writer's apathy there for a time late summer and early fall. I guess changing your personal religious/philosophical views has a bit of an effect on your overall outlook on things, whether you like it or not. That's all I'll say; past it all now. Thanks for sticking with me thus far. And many thanks to ExposedWiresExposedVeins for taking a look at this beforehand. Appreciate it, buddy!


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